


Don't be late.

by scorned



Category: Portrait de la jeune fille en feu | Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:34:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 56,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24235123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorned/pseuds/scorned
Summary: Héloïse Leclair is a very wealthy and well known publisher around the world. She is always angry and cares a little too much. Marianne Améras is a painter that works for her father and is very good at what she does. She doesn't care about much and is always late. One portrait and two opposite people running parallel finally converge.or, pick me.
Relationships: Héloïse & Marianne (Portrait of a Lady on Fire), Héloïse/Marianne (Portrait of a Lady on Fire)
Comments: 263
Kudos: 479





	1. Chapter 1

Marianne huffs looking at her phone, trying to figure out where this damn building is. The streets are bustling as pedestrians pass her, some slightly bumping into her as she passes which are followed by quiet apologies. Her hair slightly blows in the wind in front of her face as she tries to navigate her phone and all her efforts of taming it has failed. She has made a note to cut her hair, but has been far too busy keeping up with her father’s work demand.

The loud cars behind her pass by, never seeming to take a break from their honking. This frustrates her as it is another distraction keeping her from concentrating on her phone and reaching her destination. She continues to walk towards the direction that her phone is leading her, following crowds of people probably taking their lunch break. Marianne notices that GPS indicates that she’s in front of it and when she gazes up from her phone her eyes meet a skyscraper building made of glass and steel.

“Merde, I’m going to be late,” she murmurs to herself when she realizes she needs to be on the 28th floor in five minutes.

She pushes past the crowd of the noisy streets of Paris and into the large glass rotating doors, following behind an older man in a pristine suit. Once she enters, Marianne feels out of place in her black leather jacket being surrounded by many people dressed in business casual. She collects herself by running her hand through her short hair as she starts towards the elevators.

Marianne starts to head towards the elevators, her black boots clunking against the marbled floor. As she approaches, she notices a large crowd of business people standing at the elevators and quickly realizes that four of the six elevators of broken. She looks at her phone, she now has four minutes to make it into an elevator, or take the stairs. To the 28th floor. She joins the flock waiting for the elevators and soon the metal elevator door opens. Many people push out of the elevators as many people are trying to enter it.

She pushes through the group and makes it to the doors, only to find that the elevator is full and the doors are starting to close. Great, today is starting just how I wanted, she thought to herself. Now at the front of the line, she waits for another elevator which opens to the right of her a minute after and she manages to get a spot. Everyone is huddled very closely as the elevator starts to ascend.

* * *

By the time Marianna makes it up to the 28th floor and through the glass doors, she is already four minutes late to her meeting. Surely, she’s going to hear about it tonight from her father. She quickly proceeds towards the front desk and greets a young woman who can’t be much younger than her. Marianne notices that the woman has very soft comforting eyes, long brunette hair tied up into a tight pony tail and a very delicate face.

“Hi, I’m Marianne. I’m here for my meeting with,” Marianne checks her phone to confirm the name of her client. “Héloïse Leclair.”

The younger woman smiles politely and nods, clicking a few buttons on her computer next to her. She then stands up and asks Marianne to follow her. Marianne starts walking, keeping a step behind her as she is led further into the office setting. Marianne looks the heels that the younger woman is wearing and notices that she is still barely Marianne’s height. Marianne also does take note that the woman is wearing a black skirt with a pink blouse. She is drawn from her examining when she is addressed to.

“You’re a little bit late so Héloïse might be a little hostile, but don’t take it personally. She has had a bad start to the day,” the woman warns Marianne as they approach closed glass double doors. Me too Marianne thinks. The doors had a decal on it saying “Héloïse Leclair – Publisher”. The woman pushes one of the glass doors open and holds it open. Marianne hears a faint when the woman leaves, “Good luck.”

Marianne enters fully glass office, thanking the young woman. In front of her is a dark wood desk with papers scattered everywhere and a computer on the side as well as other desk stationaries. The surrounding walls to the right and left adjacent to other offices are translucent white glass and the back wall is entirely made of glass, staring down at the city of Paris. Marianne notices a couch in the corner of the office and admires how large the room is. A large black office chair is spun around with the back facing her as she stands there.

“You’re late,” a feminine voice says from behind the chair. Marianne’s attention is on how hot the voice is. As the chair spins around, Héloïse continues with clear annoyance in her voice, “I don’t like people who are late.”

Marianne raises her eyebrow at the comment as her hazel eyes meet with stern blue-grey eyes of the blonde in front of her. “Sorry,” Marianne apologizes with slight annoyance and doesn’t offer an explanation. Marianne takes a second to stare at the breathtaking woman in front of her.

Marianne eyes travel to the red lips first, which is held in a tight line. Then her eyes travel slowly up Héloïse’s face, trying to memorize every detail of the woman’s angered face. Marianne discovers every imperfection and every perfection of Héloïse’s face. Marianne’s eyes continue downwards. Héloïse is wearing a tight white dress shirt that seems to be perfectly ironed. Héloïse takes notice of Marianne staring and coughs to take back regain her attention.

Marianne shakes from her thoughts, blushing a little bit and runs her hand through her hair as she introduces herself, “Hi. You must be Héloïse Leclair. I’m Marianne. I work with my father, Victor Alméras, and I was hired by your parents.” Marianne leans forward, sticking her hand out in front of Héloïse. Her hand stayed out for a too many awkward moments before she retracts it and takes a seat in one of the chairs in front of Héloïse’s desk.

Isn’t she lovely? Marianne thought sarcastically.

Héloïse’s doesn’t look amused furrow at the mention of her parents and leans back in her chair, “What did they you hire you for?”

Marianne is shocked to discover that Héloïse was not informed about the reasoning behind this meeting. “I’m a painter. I am here to paint your portrait.”

A pause. The tension in the office has risen. Marianne can’t look at Héloïse anymore and tears her eyes away, looking everywhere else. Her eyes meet Héloïse again as she speaks after a moment of silence, “You must be mistaken. I was not informed about this.”

Marianne feels herself cower at Héloïse’s anger. “I have an email from your father if you want to see it,” Marianne says as she reaches into her jacket pocket to pull out her phone.

“That won’t be necessary.” Héloïse’s fingers now rubbing her temples.

Another pause. This time Marianne keeps her eyes locked on the very intimidating woman in front of her. Why has this day been so awful? Marianne breaks the silence, “Well, I’m here to get the job done. I don’t know why you weren’t told about this, but let’s just set up a schedule and I’ll be out of your office.”

Marianne hears Héloïse sigh as her attention withdraws from Marianne and towards her computer. She furiously types on her keyboard before saying, “The earliest I can do is Wednesday, after 2pm. We can discuss later dates that day.”

Marianne watches her lips as they move.

Wednesday. This gives Marianne a full day to prepare and to set up her studio. She checks her phone to ensure she wasn’t busy then, “I can do Wednesday at 2:30pm.”

Héloïse nods and types something into her computer. She then takes a sticky note, scribbles something down and hands it to Marianne. The anger is still evident on her face, but the hostility in her voice has softened. “Here’s my email. Email me the address where I will meet you and all the instructions. Sorry to be abrupt, but I have another meeting.”

Marianne takes the sticky note from Héloïse and their fingers touch for a brief moment. Marianne gasped and quickly pulled away as if Héloïse’s touch burned her. Marianne blushes and takes a second to read the blonde’s writing, noting that it is her personal email. She takes the note and sticks it into her pocket alongside her phone.

Marianne looks up and their eyes lock again. This time, an ever so slight smirk found its way to Héloïse’s lips. Marianne looks at them again. The smirk grows. Feeling slightly embarrassed, Marianne starts to get out of the chair, “Thank you, I will message you the details once I get back to my studio.” She stuttered the sentence a little, but hopes Héloïse didn’t notice.

Marianne turns and starts towards the door, not being oblivious to the feeling of Héloïse’s stare burning into her back. As she pulls the door open and begins to leave, she hears, “Looking forward to seeing you again. Don’t be late.”

Was that a hint of playfulness in her voice?


	2. Chapter 2

Héloïse Leclair. Searching…

Her information pops up on the right and with a multitude of pictures. Héloïse is a publisher in

Paris, a very successful and well known at that. Marianne notices that many articles about Héloïse refer to her as “the lady on fire”. _It’s all that anger_. Marianne smiles. She clicks on the images tab to see almost too many pictures of Héloïse. Very few were of her smiling, large and bright, seemingly full of happiness. She was always accompanied by another woman that looks identical.

The ones that catch her eye are the angered looks. The intensity is felt and Marianne can’t help but wonder why this woman was always furious. Though, she has to admit that Héloïse looks very hot angry.

She goes back to all the search results and her attention is drawn to the various articles posted from a few months ago regarding a tragedy of the Leclair family. Curiosity wins over and she clicks on the link. The first thing she sees is a family picture. All smiling bright at the camera at last year’s charity banquet held by the family. Left to right: Héloïse Leclair, Roselyn Leclair, Yvette Leclair and Sébastien Leclair.

Marianne bites her lower lip as she continues to stare at the photo. Héloïse was stunning in her tight fitted dress, her hair up and lips red. Those red lips. Marianne closes her eyes and remembers their meeting earlier that day. Those lips, that smirk. She quickly shakes her head, disrupting any thought of Héloïse.

In the picture, Héloïse’s father was stoic and handsome while her mother was youthful and beautiful. The other woman beside Héloïse looked almost identical to her. It could be assumed they were twins despite the fact that Roselyn was three years older than Héloïse. Everyone radiated happiness, even Héloïse. This family is a very attractive.

Marianne scrolls down on her laptop and continues to read the article. Tragedy. Death of Roselyn Leclair. Accident. Suicide. Marianne’s jaw was clenched shut by the end of the article. Roselyn Leclair, heir to Sébastien’s publishing company, where every novel published was a success all thanks to their father. The article hypothesizes two scenarios. One, Roselyn slipped and fell down a cliff due to the weather conditions. Two, she caved from the pressures of following her father’s giant footsteps.

* * *

Marianne spends most of Tuesday morning organizing the studio. Getting the canvas ready, the paints out and setting up the room. To almost everyone, her “organized” studio was barely perfect as there was completed work placed against the wall all around the studio haphazardly, empty canvases placed around without thoughts, brushes all on one table in disarray. Marianne didn’t care. It is her studio and she can locate where everything is. As she is finishing getting her paints all in one area of the room, Marianne hears a knock at the door of her studio which prompts her to go open the door. She is greeted with a smile from her father. There was a frown in return.

“Papa, why are you here?” Marianne asks as she steps aside to let her father into her studio.

Victor steps inside, glances around at the disorganized studio and sighs. His hazel eyes locks onto his daughter’s. She reminds him so much of his wife. “Marianne, would it kill you to clean up a little? I give you my most loyal clients and they would expect better conditions than this.”

Marianne starts to frown. A constant argument that always started when he was around her studio. Victor is a very calculated man. He likes having a section of the room for empty canvases, one side for completed work, paints in cabinets and brushes organized by size in different trays. His paints were even organized down to the tones within the paint. The exact opposite from Marianne. Everything is in disarray.

“Papa, we’ve spoken about this. You can’t just come into my workspace and critique everything,” Marianne huffs as she goes back to organizing her paints into one location. Not looking in his direction. In frustration, she runs her hand through her hair. It still has yet to be cut.

Victor sighs and looks saddened by his only daughter. Their relationship used to be very good until couple of years ago. They were inseparable as he was teaching her about his art. When Marianne’s mother died two years back, everything about Marianne changed. His driven and hardworking daughter slowly transformed into a talented stranger. Day by day, he saw this caring and loving Marianne turn into someone that has no care in the world.

He has tried everything to help her. Nothing has worked.

“I’m sorry. I was just stopping by to check on you. Haven’t heard from you in a while and Vincent told me you were here. If you need me, don’t hesitate to call me,” and with that, he exits her studio. He didn’t want to make things worse.

Marianne drops the last paint container harshly onto the table and hunched over. She lights a cigarette and takes a puff. She didn’t like seeing her dad hurt and she definitely didn’t like being the reason why he was sad. All of his efforts of reconnecting were just more of a reminder of why her mother died.

* * *

Greetings Héloïse,

Just a reminder about our scheduled session tomorrow at 2:30pm. Below I’ve attached instructions of how to prepare for our first session together as well as the address to my studio. If any problem arises, let me know.

Marianne.

After Marianne hit the send button, she closes her laptop and decides to get ready for the night. Vincent Alméras is Marianne’s younger brother by two years. He shares the same brown hair colour as Marianne, but the key distinction is that he inherited their mother’s piercing green eyes. He also decided to follow in their mother’s footsteps and is pursuing a doctorate degree in biology. It was her brother’s 26th birthday, and of course he wants to celebrate on a Tuesday night.

Marianne climbs out of bed and into the shower. Few moments later, she is dressed in her signature black ripped jeans and loose white button up, leaving two buttons undone at the top. She exits her house as the sun was starting to set and she slipped on her padded jacket and her helmet. She stars making her way towards her brother’s house. He currently lives with two other friends and she was told to sleep there for the night. There is low traffic on her way there because he lives outside of the city of Paris.

Marianne loves the feeling of the wind around her as she drives her motorcycle. The crisp spring air surrounds her and the chilly weather feels comforting. It is a fleeting feeling, comfort. She has always wanted a motorcycle but refrained due to her mother deeming them unsafe. She always followed her mother’s wishes, but after her death, Marianne decided to get her license and never looked back.

When she arrives to her brother’s house, they all quickly greet one another, file into a taxi and head towards the bar. Marianne is surrounded by her brother’s friends which she would also consider her friends. One friend is named Arthur and is Vincent’s childhood best friend. They have been friends since they were four so Marianne has also known Arthur for most of her life. The other is named Benoit, who Vincent met in university during their first year of study.

“Bonne fête Vinny!” Marianne says she raises a shot into the air. The subtle live music pounding muddled with loud chatter makes Marianne’s words hard to hear. Odd that there were this many people out on a Tuesday night. She assumes they are mostly all tourist.

The four took adjacent seats at the bar counter. Her and her brother go here a lot and the bartenders know Marianne a little too well. She’s hot, flirts and tips well. Once the group recovers from the taste of the shot, Marianne orders everyone another round drinks, then settling for a beer herself.

She finds herself caught in a daydream as the three other boys talk about work and whatever boys talk about beside her. She feels as though she can already paint Héloïse from memory. Her face, all the details are engraved in her brain. It has been a long time since Marianne has lusted over someone this intensely. She is already feeling a little drunk, probably due to missing dinner.

“Marianne, have you talked to papa?” Vincent asks her after taking a sip of his beer. Her daydream is cut short and she sighs.

“Yes, Vinny. He visited me today at my studio and gave me crap about it. Like he always does.” Marianne answers with aggressive undertone, making eye contact with her brother’s green eyes. He could sense the annoyance from them.

Vincent takes the hint that she doesn’t want to talk about it and moves on with the conversation. He understands her resentment. He also knows that Marianne is very stressed about her work, trying to get out from her father’s spotlight. He changes the topic and goes to mention how he just bought a girl a drink at the end of the counter. He’s elated by their stolen looks at each other.

“I’m going to go talk to her.” Vincent announces.

Arthur chimes in, “Little Vinny is going to penetrate the slippery canal!” He might be a little drunk. He could never hold his alcohol well.

Vincent punches his friend playfully on the shoulder as Benoit laughs uncontrollably and Marianne can’t help but let out a chuckle at the bizarre statement.

“Fucking children,” Vincent rebuttals. He takes a last sip of confidence from the bottle and with it in hand, he decides to pursue the girl he bought the drink for. “Wish me luck boys.”

Murmurs of good lucks hung in the air as Marianne’s eyes follow her brother as he makes his way down the bar. She can hear Arthur and Benoit making bets on whether Vincent will be successful or not. He was confident, walking with his chin up. He is tall, charming and his smile wins over all the ladies. He smiles and introduces himself as he approaches the mysterious woman. Marianne’s eyes slowly drift over to the woman. Her attention wasn’t on Marianne’s brother who is talking to her, but instead looking directly at Marianne.

Red lips, blue-grey eyes.

Oh.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, Marianne opens her eyes abruptly due to her phone’s loud alert. She takes a second to adjust her eyes to the sunlight entering her brother’s living room, where she slept on the couch. Her head is pounding and her phone ringing doesn’t help. She reaches towards the wooden table, taping around to find her phone before drawing it up to her face.

Without looking, she answers, “What?” Irritation is evident in her voice.

“That is no way to answer the phone,” Marianne doesn’t recognize the voice. “Especially to a client.”

Wait. Oh shit.

It’s Héloïse.

Marianne doesn’t remember much from last night besides those red lips and their staring contest.

Marianne immediately starts to sit up, pulling the phone away from her face to see an unsaved number and the time 2:15pm. She sees texts from her brother saying he went to school and that he had a fun night. She also forgot to set an alarm. “Oh sorry, Miss Leclair. I apologize, I thought you were my brother.” She runs her hand through her hair. Clients don’t normally call her on her cell. “Can I ask how you got my number?”

“My father sent over the details of this,” A pause. “Portrait. And your cell was listed. I am outside your studio and the door’s locked.” Marianne can imagine Héloïse’s face when she said that, annoyance clear in the eyes and lips pressed into a tight line.

Shit. Marianne is screwed. She is already putting on her clothes from last night that is scattered on the floor beside the couch. “Yes, sorry Miss Leclair. I was missing an item required for the portrait so went to go get it. I am on my way back now.” With that, her padded jacket is on her shoulders and her helmet is in one hand as the other still holds the phone to her ear.

“You should have told me. Also call me Héloïse.” Anger. Click.

Marianne huffs out a tense breath and sees that the unknown number has ended the call. She has 10 minutes to make and it takes 20 minutes to drive there from here. Marianne is going to be late. Again. Thankfully, no one informed her father of her tardiness for the meeting. She was sure now that her father is going to hear it and give her all his rage. She approaches her bike in her brother’s driveway and starts driving towards her studio.

The sun was shining brightly above her, radiating warmth. The air was still crisp and fresh. She passes houses and buildings where a feeling of mundane overwhelms her. She has lived in Paris all her life and nothing to her feels new. She does wish she felt the same elation from the tourist though. Paris was beautiful, but not spectacular.

* * *

She reaches her studio in a record time of 16 minutes, thankfully not getting pulled over. She parks her bike behind her building and makes her way around the beige concrete structure. She luckily had the corner lot, which gives her sunlight from three sides. She turns the corner and sees Héloïse sat on the top metal stair leading up to her studio door. Marianne stops and stands there for a second.

Héloïse is stunning like the past two times she has seen her. Her blonde hair falls in waves just past her shoulders and her bare lips are wrapped around a cigarette. She is wearing a green hoodie over a white t-shirt and black yoga pants, clearly having changed out of her work outfit. She looks calm, no anger present on her face. Marianne blinks a couple of times mimicking a camera lens. Taking a picture to keep forever.

Marianne starts to walk again, her keys clanking as she walked and her boots loud from hitting the asphalt pavement. The noise draws Héloïse’s attention to her and she offers a polite apologetic smile. “I’m sorry about being late again.” Marianne says at the bottom of the steps looking up at Héloïse, it nearing a whisper.

They lock eyes and annoyance starts to quickly makes its way onto Héloïse’s features. Marianne notes that she is still beautiful. Silence. Marianne starts to ascend the stairs as Héloïse stands up, putting her cigarette out. Héloïse puts the bud in the coffee cup full of other used cigarettes close to the door. Marianne offers a tight smile as she moves past Héloïse and pushes her keys into the door. Marianne keeps in mind that they are the same height.

“Welcome to Le Portrait.” Her father surely had a clever company name.

The door opens wide and the pair step into Marianne’s studio. The LED fluorescent lights start to flicker on. It wasn’t a large space and felt kind of crammed. It looks old, with old crown molding on the ceiling and chipped white brick wall on one side. The other wall was all windows currently being covered by blackout curtains, offering no penetration of light. The back offered a small window which was also covered. The brick wall had a countertop cabinet and a sink.

Héloïse stepped inside and watched from the door as Marianne was getting settled. There were canvases everywhere, some completed, most empty and few with incomplete attempts. Near the middle of the room sits a chair with a black backdrop behind it with a few lights around it, bringing attention to the chair. Slightly behind the light was an easel with a canvas already perched on it. Beside it held a small table, with brushes scattered everywhere, a couple of empty mason jars, a box of paints underneath and a bottle of liquid beside of it. There was another chair behind the easel with a paint palette sitting on it.

Also, Héloïse is well aware that Marianne is still wearing the same clothes from last night and has no art supplies in her hands. She also notices the way Marianne’s hair is tousled from the helmet and the way her hands frantically shake as she runs around the studio.

“Would you like anything to drink? I have water and soda and I think wine. I also have snacks if you want. Or we can order food.” Marianne offers hastily as she moves around her studio preparing herself. She manages to slyly stick a piece of gum into her unbrushed mouth. Completely aware that she probably reeks.

Héloïse slowly starts walking towards the centre of the studio, keeping her eyes on the frantic Marianne. “No, I am fine.” Marianne notes that there is still a hint of annoyance in her voice, but some of it has faded.

Marianne gestures towards the seat in the middle of the studio. “Please take a seat. I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

Héloïse does just that and waits for Marianne. Marianne pulls up the chair from behind the easel and places it in front of here Héloïse is sat a minute later. They’re now both seated, eyes intently on each other and surrounded by outside noises of cars passing by. No one says anything for a second. Marianne wants to kiss Héloïse.

“So, why am I painting this portrait of you?” Marianne breaks the silence first.

Héloïse looks away. her brows furrowed and her fingers makes its way to her temples. Her bare lips are in a tight line. “My parents want it for when I take over my father’s publication company. It will hang it over my head in my office.” Her eyes with an unfamiliar expression meet Marianne’s again. Marianne could’ve sworn it was sadness.

“And you don’t want that?” Marianne has a habit of breaking boundaries and asking personal questions.

“Non.” That was the only response offered.

Marianne doesn’t push this topic further and continues with the details. “I’m estimating it will take four, three-hour sessions to complete. Once a week should be sufficient, this prevents fatigue and allows the paint to dry. We can decide on the schedule weekly if you’d like, I know you are busy.”

Three hours of Marianne staring at Héloïse. Three hours of Héloïse staring back at Marianne.

“Who was I talking to last night? And who were you with?” Héloïse asks, completely disregarding what Marianne just said.

Marianne finds this annoying. Héloïse seems pretentious, but who wouldn’t with a family name like that. Without missing a beat, she replies, “My brother and his friends. They’re basically all brothers to me.”

Héloïse releases some visible tension as she relaxes in the chair. Was she relieved? “He must have told you that he asked me to get dinner tonight.”

Marianne eyes widen. Her brother didn’t tell her anything when he got back. Maybe because she was already drunk and doesn’t remember. “And?”

“I accepted.”

Marianne breaks eye contact. It was getting too intense for her. Vincent? Going to dinner with Héloïse? Her hand runs through her hair and begins to tense. “He’s a good guy,” She offers as a response.

Héloïse can see the walls come up, not that they weren’t there already. They just have spikes on them now. Héloïse draws back the conversation to the business at hand realizing she may have pushed things too far, “We can do every Wednesday at 2:30pm. I will clear my schedule for three hours.”

Marianne nods. That’s all that needs to be said. She gets up and moves her chair out of the way. Marianne stands directly in front of a seated Héloïse, looking down at her. She likes this view. Marianne finger is playing with her own lips as she decides what pose to make Héloïse do. She had told Héloïse to wear something comfortable, but for the next sessions to bring what she actually will wear in the portrait.

They both settle with Héloïse’s left arm up on the arm rest, her right arm bent, the right hand holding the other. She is slightly slanted towards the left and her right leg is crossed over her left one. Marianne takes a step back and looks at Héloïse, examining every body part, ensuring that it is the right pose. She smiles slightly in victory. “Are you comfortable?”

“Oui.”

Marianne nods and moves to stand behind the easel. She picks up a pencil and holds it slightly hovering the canvas. She looks past the material and locks eyes with Héloïse. Blue meets dark hazel eyes.

Marianne now knows why they call Héloïse the lady on fire.


	4. Chapter 4

At the end of the first hour, the rough sketch was etched into the off-white canvas. Héloïse was growing restless of the sound of lead to fabric and sitting still for many minutes. Sitting still was not a favourite for Héloïse. During this hour, there was no conversations shared between the two. It was only Marianne telling Héloïse how to pose or she was mumbling to herself, focused on getting the proportions correct.

Once Marianne is content with the sketch, she put her pencil down and looks at Héloïse. “We can take a break. I see you growing restless.” She understands the difficulty of posing for so long.

Héloïse removes herself from the position and stands to stretch. She was asked to take off her sweater in order for Marianne to fully see her composition. Héloïse starts to bend down, grabbing the sweater that was on the ground beside her chair. Marianne is watching her the whole time. _What a fine ass._ Marianne quickly pulls her eyes from Héloïse when she turns around with her sweater on.

“I’m going for a smoke,” Héloïse states and turns towards to the door.

Marianne stops pretending to busy herself with her brushes and adds, “I’ll join you.”

They both sat at the top of the stairs, beside each other and Marianne swears she can feel the warmth of Héloïse’s arm. Both pull out their respective pack of cigarettes and Héloïse goes to light hers. It’s a little windy out so catching a flame is difficult, but she is successful.

Marianne can’t find her lighter anywhere as she feels for it in all of her pockets, “I don’t know where mine went. Can I get a light?”

Marianne expected Héloïse to hand her the lighter and let her light it herself, but instead Héloïse holds up the lighter. A wave of nervousness washes over Marianne at the thought of being in such close proximity with the blonde. She put the cigarette in her mouth and leans in closer to Héloïse. Their faces inches apart. The flame erupts from the lighter but their eyes were on each other. As fast as the flame lit, it dissipates faster. A fleeting display of passion.

They both look away, a slight fluster on each of their faces. Finally, Marianne’s cigarette lights and they sit there, in a tense silence. Both trying to calm their feelings for each other, trying to forget the infatuation in each other’s eyes.

“Why are you upset about taking over your father’s business?” Marianne asks out of nowhere.

Héloïse wishes this moment would never happen. She constantly ignores her fast approaching fate. A hand is brought up to her forehead, rubbing her temples. “I don’t want to leave Paris. I don’t want to follow in my father’s footsteps. I want to build my own name and be successful on my own accord. Not because I am a Leclair.” Marianne notes her name in disgust. Héloïse continues, “There is a lot of pressure associated to our name.”

Marianne listens intently. “Is that why your sister wanted to die?”

Héloïse looks at Marianne in shock. Her mouth agape and the permanent anger on her face becomes more evident. She pauses for a second and looks back at the bustling street in front of her. “You’re the first person unafraid to ask that.”

Without missing a beat, “Besides you.” Marianne puts out her cigarette.

“I am mad at her. Not for dying, but for leaving me her fate.”

Marianne raises a brow. “You make it sound terrible,” she states with a slight smile. Héloïse is inheriting a multibillion-dollar company.

“What about you? What will you do?” Héloïse asks her after exhaling some smoke.

“I think take over my father’s business, or I may start my own.”

Héloïse looks at Marianne and they share a second. Marianne can see anger and hurt in Héloïse’s eyes. “You have a choice. You don’t understand me.”

Marianne mirrors the hurt in Héloïse’s eyes, trying to take some of the pain away. “I do understand.”

Before Héloïse can answer, her phone rings. She apologizes to Marianne and picks up. “Héloïse Leclair. Sophie? It’s okay. Where are you?” Héloïse’s hand holding her almost finished cigarette is held to her face and her fingers are anxiously playing at her lips. This is the first time Marianne sees another emotion in Héloïse’s eyes besides anger. “Okay, stay there. I’m coming now.”

Héloïse hangs up and immediately stands. She holds her composure in front of Marianne with tight features, but her eyes tell it all. She looks down at Marianne. “Sorry, I have to go. To the hospital. I must go immediately.” Marianne stands in shock and face her. She sees that Héloïse is ordering a taxi.

“I can drive you. It’s faster than waiting for a taxi.”

Héloïse nods and Marianne enters her studio to grab her keys, jacket, phone, and two helmets. She always kept a spare helmet in her studio. She knew one day it would come in handy. She checks the time and it reads 3:32pm. She turns off all the lights in her studio and takes one last look around before closing the door. She enters the sunlight from darkness and turns to see an anxious Héloïse standing who she hands her the spare helmet to. It was tacky and had flames on it.

Héloïse looks at Marianne as she locks her studio behind them. She has never been on a motorcycle, especially not during rush hour in Paris. Even with overwhelming emotion, Héloïse does not let fear stop her. She follows Marianne towards the back of the building and she can’t help but stare at the woman.

Marianne starts her bike and puts on her helmet, which Héloïse follow suit. Marianne mounts her bike and kicks the stand up. She holds the bike steady and helps Héloïse to the back as well as she could. “Hold on to me,” Marianne tells Héloïse and she nods, wrapping her arms around Marianne’s stomach.

Marianne could feel the heat growing in her as Héloïse’s arms are around her but she ignored the feeling. As soon as Marianne knew that Héloïse was situated, she pulls out of the spot and drives them towards the hospital.

* * *

Marianne pulls up to the hospital that was closer to her brother’s rural neighbourhood and not in city. It was quite small compared to ones she has seen in Paris, but helps because there is only a single person outside. It was the same young woman she saw at the reception when she went for her meeting to see Héloïse.

Marianne stabled the bike as Héloïse got off the back and took off her helmet. Héloïse turned to Marianne and handed her back her spare helmet. She can’t see Marianne’s expression through her matte black helmet where the visor is tinted black. Héloïse offers a thanks and a small smile to Marianne before leaving to meet with Sophia. A smile. It was barely there, but it was a genuine smile that was given to Marianne and she feels her heart flutter like butterflies on their first flight. Her heart was beating so rapidly that she’s convinced she’s having a heart attack.

Marianne parks her bike at the entrance in order to secure the spare helmet to the seat where Héloïse just was. She is reminded of the sensation of Héloïse’s arms around her and yearns for more. For now, she mounts her jet-black motorcycle once again and starts to head home.

* * *

Marianne wakes up from a much-deserved nap to a text message from her father, an ex-fling and her brother.

 **Papa:** How was your first session with Miss Leclair? 5:31pm

 **Marianne:** Good. Cut short. Something came up. 7:02pm

She always answers her father bluntly. She tries not to, but it just comes out no matter what. Some feelings aren’t fleeting. Animosity is one for what he did to mother.

 **+345519076:** Want to come over tonight? 6:23pm

Marianne sighs. She has repeatedly told this girl no. Clearly, she is not getting the hint so Marianne blocks her number without a second thought.

 **Vinny:** Yo M, party at my house on Saturday!!!!! No choice. 7:02pm

Vinny’s parties are always fun but somehow ends in a disaster for someone in his friend group. Though, it does make her smile that now she has plans Saturday and doesn’t have to be alone with her thoughts.

 **Marianne:** sounds good. when’s your date? 7:03pm

She was hoping Héloïse would reschedule.

 **Vinny:** 7:30. Omw to her now ;) 7:07pm

Just her luck.

Once she was done, she goes to check her emails. Boring. Spam. Héloïse. New follower on Instagram. _Wait what?_ Her finger hovers over the email from Héloïse with the subject line that reads: Thank you. Click.

Dear Marianne,

Thank you for offering to drive me to the hospital. It was much appreciated. Sorry that our session got cut short, but we can schedule an extra one to make up for lost time. It will be paid for.

Best regards,

Héloïse Leclair

Publisher – Le Tripode

Marianne smiles at the email. It was kind and appreciative, something she has not seen from Héloïse yet. Marianne finds it odd that Héloïse would write her an email when she already has her cell phone number. Pushing that thought aside, she types up a reply.

Héloïse,

Hope everything is all right. Rescheduling can be discussed later. We might be finished before then.

Marianne.

Ding!

Marianne checks her phone and it is a text message from an unsaved number. She recognizes it, but doesn’t know from where.

 **+652571250:** Oh, but I insist on rescheduling the last session. 7:10pm

Marianne finally adds Héloïse to her contacts.

 **Marianne:** We will see. No point in spending money if it is not needed. 7:11pm

 **Héloïse Leclair:** Maybe we can schedule something outside of our sessions. 7:15pm

 **Héloïse Leclair:** I got to go. Your brother is here. 7:16pm

Marianne read the message and felt her heart drop. The butterflies have seemingly have flown off.

Vincent is always early.


	5. Chapter 5

The week dragged on since Wednesday. When she was not doing commissioned work, she was at her father’s studio, helping him teach the multitude of classes he has on various topics. She mainly teaches the technicalities, paint application and art conventions. Victor focuses on art history and business side of art, but does it all when Marianne is not around. The art style is drastically changing but Victor insists on not expanding, worrying that this art style will slowly disappear if no longer taught. Marianne has no choice but to remain silent. It wasn’t her company.

Héloïse and Marianne have not talked since their last conversation on Wednesday.

Friday night was spent alone in her flat, outside on her balcony hovering over the streets of Paris with a half-finished blunt in her mouth and a sketchbook in her lap with a blanket wrapped around her. She was looking around for a muse. She finds it ironic that in the beautiful city of Paris, she cannot find one thing that she wants to draw, or has interest in. The air was getting cold as the sun starts to descend down, emitting warm colours in the sky that resembles fire. There was not a single cloud in the sky.

She could draw the building in front of her. Boring. She could draw the pedestrians underneath her, chatting and walking around in the sunset hue. Also, boring. The flowers on her neighbour’s balcony? Nope.

Her mind drifts to Héloïse as she takes a drag from the blunt, the burning ashes emits orange. She sucks in the puff before she lets the smoke escape her mouth and she could have sworn it faded into an image of Héloïse. The smoke of Héloïse and the orange flames from the sunset fit together seemingly perfect. _The lady on fire._ She laughs. Oh man, she’s high. An inspiration pops into her mind so holds the blunt into her mouth and picks up her sketch book.

* * *

Saturday night approaches as the moon greets her. She spent the duration of the morning doing a commission of someone’s rabbit. Now she was out of the shower and standing in front of her closet. She had no one to impress so she settled on a tight black t-shirt tucked into black ripped jeans with a skinny brown belt. She combs her hair over once, giving her short brown her a messy tousled look; her helmet would ruin her hair anyway.

A message from Vincent pops up on her phone.

 **Vinny:** M!!!! Where are you?!?!?!?

 **Marianne:** just finishing up. i’ll be there in 20.

Vinny sends a thumbs up emoji and the splashing wet emoji in response. She chuckles at this. She ties up her black combat boots, double checks she has her wallet, keys and phone before leaving her flat. She enters the brisk night of Paris. All the lights were on everywhere, making it feel like the sun never set. There were tourists out and about, most likely lost because she was not in walking distance to any tourist attraction.

Marianne puts on her helmet, leaving the visor part open as she rounds the corner of her apartment building towards her bike. Since it was colder, she decided to bring along some leather gloves that she put on before turning on the motorcycle and mounting it. She flips the visor down, pulls out onto the street and proceeds towards Vincent’s place.

* * *

Marianne pulls into her brother’s driveway and hears loud music echoing from inside the house. She decides she wants to smoke before entering the house so she takes off her gloves, then her helmet and pulls out a cigarette. She has trouble lighting it at first, but is relieved when the nicotine hits her lungs. She is leaned against her bike and looking up at the starry night when she hears a group of people talking near her.

She turns her attention to the group of 3 out on the street, smoking a blunt. Each taking one puff and passing it on to the other. It was two men and one woman. All seem to be about Vincent’s age, probably friends from school.

“I swear that’s Héloïse Leclair in there,” one man said in a hush whisper to his two other friends.

Marianne’s stomach drops at the mention of her name. The nicotine calming her now not working and she feels her adrenaline spike. Was Héloïse here? Marianne continues to burn out her cigarette and listens.

“No, I’m pretty sure it is. I think her and Vincent are seeing each other. He’s been following her around like a lost dog.”

Marianne puts out her cigarette after this comment and coughs. This alerts the group of her presence and everyone knows who she is in relation to Vincent. They all look at her in fear and proceed to change the topic, hoping she won’t come over. Marianne smiles to herself. She loves it when people fear her. It means they will never bother her. She grabs her helmet and gloves and starts to enter the house.

Marianne is instantly greeted with warmth and the smell of weed coming from the house. She sees that there is a considerable amount of people here already. It’s close to 11:30pm last time she checked. She greets Arthur and Benoit as she makes her way upstairs towards Vincent’s room to put her helmet and things inside.

She opens the door and is met with darkness. She flicks the light on, sees her brother’s nerdy science posters, and notes scattered around his desk and floor. She carefully steps pass the notes on the ground and proceeds to put her stuff in the designated area she has claimed.

As she was making her way downstairs, she can hear people yelling her brother’s name. She rounds into the kitchen and sees her brother on the countertop of his island with people around him, cheering. She crosses her arms and laughs at her brother’s antics. He’s doing a trick shot in a beer pong game which is located in the living room.

He throws the ball, aiming for the last cup of the opposing team and of course he misses. Everyone laughs and moves on. As he was getting off, he saw Marianne and yelled for her. Marianne pushes past people and gives her brother a hug. Once letting go, she turns to see who he is smiling at.

Héloïse Leclair and Sophie. At her brother’s house party. Héloïse’s face is flushed a little as her pale sink show a slight pink hue. Her eyes are as blue as ever, her hair is perfectly wavy and sits on her shoulders. She is wearing blue ripped mom jeans and a white t-shirt that is tucked in. Marianne releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Héloïse lips are red again. Marianne can’t get those red lips out of her mind and she has an overwhelming feeling of wanting to kiss them. But she doesn’t.

Héloïse introduces Marianne to Sophie properly and Marianne smiles at the younger girl. Sophie was the complete opposite of Héloïse in personality, but she knew there was a close connection between the two.

Before the continue with the party, Marianne hears Héloïse voice close to her ear, “Late as always.” This warrants a chuckle.

The night carries on and the party just gets more and more wild. Héloïse stays around Vincent and Marianne, mainly due to the fact she doesn’t know anyone else. Sophie is off socializing. The three of them laughed about the coincidence that Marianne is currently doing a portrait of Héloïse. Marianne was annoyed that no one told her that Héloïse was coming. Surely Marianne’s name must have come up in conversation.

“Why didn’t you tell me she was coming?” Marianne asks her brother who is sat beside her on the couch. Héloïse is currently inside the kitchen fixing herself a drink.

“I invited her yesterday night. She didn’t say whether she was coming or not. I kind of assumed she wasn’t.” Vincent responds just before Héloïse returns with a drunken smile on her face as she forces herself in between the Alméras. Marianne would have to drop this for now.

They are sitting on a two-person couch, which results in Héloïse basically sitting on Marianne. More on Marianne than Vincent. Prior to this couch engagement, Marianne was taking shots with Arthur, Sophie and Benoit. Sophie and Benoit have been hitting it off and sat to the left of Marianne on a lover’s seat while Arthur took the other one alone to the right. Marianne is definitely not going to make the right choices right now, but she isn’t drunk enough to forget the night.

“Let’s play truth or dare,” Arthur suggests.

The people on the other side of the couch were busy in their own conversation to even hear Arthur. It was left to the group of 5 to play. “What are we? 14?” Marianne jokes but agrees to play anyway.

“Marianne, truth or date?” Benoit starts the game.

“Uh, truth.” Vincent calls her boring.

“When’s the last time you had sex?”

Marianne tenses when she answers, “Thursday.” Tinder is very handy.

Marianne can sense Héloïse’s eyes on her and when she makes eye contact, they looked… upset? Marianne convinced herself that she was imagining things, projecting her feelings onto Héloïse. Héloïse has mastered hiding emotion from her face, but Marianne can read her eyes like it’s her mother tongue. Héloïse’s ass is still pressed to her thigh.

Rounds pass and the question lands on Héloïse. Héloïse ponders and answers Arthur with truth. “Out of us five, who do you find the most attractive?” All eyes were on her, Vincent eyes show some glisten of hopefulness.

Héloïse takes a second to think but refuses to answer, saying all of them are very attractive people. Her face is flat. This shocks everyone that she didn’t say Vincent, but in the drunken state, no one thinks about it any longer. Vincent was easily the most attractive guy. Because she refuses to answer, she now has to do a dare.

“I dare you to kiss whoever you think is the most attractive.” Arthur really had to do it to her.

Marianne didn’t want to see her brother kissing Héloïse . In a haste, Marianne starts to get up. This causes Héloïse to tip over, and being a little drunk her balance wasn’t all that great. This results in her drink being poured all over Marianne’s shirt. Everyone around them, even the people playing beer pong a bit away starts to laugh. Marianne doesn’t feel embarrassed by the laughter, more tense that all the attention is on her. Her hand reaches into her hair.

Marianne has already left the scene by the time Héloïse’s apology left her mouth.

* * *

Marianne was in her brother’s room with her shirt off, standing in her bra as she tries to find something to wear. Her shirt reeks of alcohol and is dripping wet. As she stares into his closet, she doesn’t hear the door open. She turns around in fright when she feels a tap on her shoulder. Héloïse is there and their eyes lock. Each set of eyes were searching for something in the others, but neither knew what.

It felt like hours have passed before Héloïse breaks eye contact with Marianne to realize that she doesn’t have a shirt on. Marianne doesn’t feel shy and she stands there still in shock that Héloïse is there. They are both very drunk, Héloïse more than Marianne.

“I’m sorry about the drink,” Héloïse quickly spits out when she notices herself staring at Marianne for a little too long. Her face gets redder and it isn’t from the alcohol. This time, all emotions are present on Héloïse’s face. It seems like she allows herself to feel around Marianne.

Marianne’s lips upturn into a confident smirk. “Don’t be. I got up too quickly. I had to pee.” She comes up with a pretty convincing reason and is proud of herself.

Héloïse’s words come out before she could think about it, “I would’ve kissed you.”

What?


	6. Chapter 6

Since the party, Marianne has not spoken or seen Héloïse. Vincent tells her that the two have another date scheduled on Monday. Today is Monday. Marianne can’t help but feel sad that none of her messages have been returned, but Héloïse is going on date with Vincent. She desperately tries to ignore the feeling, but fails miserably. They still have their second session scheduled on Wednesday and last Wednesday was barely productive.

Héloïse had explained to Marianne that Sophie’s, her receptionist and best friend, mother was in the hospital due to a bad fall. She broke her ankle but Héloïse describes Sophie as a very emotional being. Marianne could tell that Héloïse has a soft spot for her and wishes that Héloïse had a soft spot for her. As of right now, she doesn’t know if Héloïse will show up to the second session.

Marianne clicks on their messages again, hopeful for a reply.

 **Marianne:** Hey, we should talk about yesterday.

 **Marianne:** Héloïse? I can see you read my messages.

 **Marianne:** Oh. So now you turn off your reads?

No response. Marianne is starting to feel herself become agitated. Is this the feeling of heartbreak? No, she doesn't love Héloïse. She stares up at her ceiling and starts to piece back together what happened on Saturday night.

* * *

“I would’ve kissed you.”

Marianne is standing there, shocked. Her eyes were wide and she was breathing out of her mouth. She didn’t know what to do and the blonde in front of her was refusing to make eye contact with her. The party beneath them was starting to die down. The music was turned off due to a complaint by the neighbours, indistinct conversations fills the room. Marianne hasn’t bothered to turn on her brother’s bedroom light as it was way too bright so the only light source came from his closet.

A moment passes. Silence. Another moment. Both of them are just standing there. Marianne is in complete shock and Héloïse is feeling panic arise in from her abdomen. Marianne’s shadow blocks Héloïse from the closet light. Her face is dark like she’s a flame that is slowly burning out.

Héloïse then suddenly makes her way towards the door and as she opens it to leave, Marianne is behind her with her hand on the door. She shuts it close and now Héloïse has her back pressed up against the door, looking into Marianne’s eyes. Marianne’s left hand is outstretched, and on the door. Trapping the woman from the party down stairs, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

Héloïse holds a breath and feels like she’s underwater. That if she takes a breath, she will drown in the sea of what is Marianne. It is dark in the room and the closet light barely illuminated Héloïse’s face. But it was there. Shining on her, reminding Marianne how beautiful this woman is. The fire hasn’t died out yet.

They continue to stare at each other. Waiting for one of them to make the move.

Marianne brings her right hand up to cup Héloïse’s face. Marianne left elbow starts to bend, leaning in closer to the red lips. Marianne’s stops mere centimetres away from Héloïse. Their eyes are still looking into each other’s. Floods of passion can be felt. A summer storm approaches. Their connection was so magnetic. They can feel each other’s breath on their lips.

“Kiss me,” Héloïse whispers. Marianne is convinced that she is hearing things.

She leaned in anyway. Closing the gap between their lips so slowly that they seem as if they being captured in slow motion. Marianne can feel her lips brush Héloïse’s soft ones.

A knock.

“Is everything okay in there?” Vincent’s voice can be heard from the other side. They can hear Sophie mumble something to Vincent on the other side of the door.

Marianne pushes herself back and turns around as Héloïse slips out of the room. She stands there silent. Her heart is racing and she swears she’s going dizzy from the blood rushing through her. She felt those lips on hers. Those red lips.

* * *

It is now Tuesday and Marianne has a clear schedule. Her brother is in school and she really had no friends other than him. When her mother died, she stopped talking to everyone, so now she was left all alone. She decides to text him to see what he was up to anyway.

 **Marianne:** what are you doing rn?

 **Vinny:** Going to my lab. Why, what’s up?

 **Marianne** : nothing. wondering how your date went.

 **Vinny:** It was fun. I really like her. We mostly talked about what I did and science. She mostly listened.

Marianne chews on her lip.

 **Marianne:** did you guys do anything?

 **Vinny:** No, she refuses to come back to my place. She won’t even kiss me :/

This puts a smile on Marianne’s face. Vincent sends her another text after saying that he has to go into his lab and he will text her afterwards.

It is noon and Marianne is in the studio. She tries to organize her stuff up to her father’s standards, but finds it impossible. It just wasn’t who she was. She passes by the canvas. All there was a faint sketch of Héloïse’s outline. Marianne looks past the canvas and at the chair. She had memorized Héloïse sitting in that position in the short time she was sketching her.

Marianne can’t help but feel a little selfish for her feelings towards Héloïse. She feels as if she is betraying her brother. What kind of sister is she to steal her brother’s girl? Ending this now would be the start choice, but she can’t bring herself to. The stolen glances and time spent together has made Marianne feel something for the first time in a while. She can’t let it end yet. She feels so free.

Every moment spent looking at Héloïse was like a camera was rolling. Every expression, mostly anger, that was plastered on her face was captured by the lens of Marianne’s hazel eyes. She barely knew Héloïse, but for some reason, she felt like they have known each other forever. Her hand brings itself to touch her lips. She’s mad at herself for not closing the gap faster. She’s mad that she didn’t take the opportunity as it was presented to her. Now she may never know how Héloïse’s lips feels against hers. With this thought, Marianne grabs her things and locks her studio behind her.

* * *

“Hi Sophie.” Marianne says in a soft tone to the woman behind the desk.

Sophie looks at Marianne and recognizes her. Marianne receives a genuine smile and eyes full of excitement. Marianne brushes it off, thinking that this is the fourth time they saw each other, Sophie shouldn’t be really be excited. The second time, she was sure Sophie didn’t even know it was her. She had her helmet on at the hospital.

“Hi Marianne! I’m assuming you’re here to see Héloïse.” Sophie states more than questions.

Marianne looks at the girl with a confused expression but answers yes. Sophie nods and gets out of her chair. Marianne finds it odd that Sophie is so willing to bring her to Héloïse’s office even though she showed up unannounced. Marianne follows Sophie anyway through the busy office anyway. She passes through the office and notices that everyone seemed pretty happy to be there.

Sophie stops before the glass door. They can see Héloïse hunched over the desk, her blonde locks falling over and covering her face. Her left arm is perching her head up as her right hand furiously writes something down. Sophie and Marianne look at each other. Sophie gives Marianne a supportive smile and proceeds back to her desk.

Marianne takes a deep breath before she puts her hand on the metal handle and pushes the heavy glass door open. She wonders how Sophie did it so smoothly the first day.

She can hear Héloïse sigh out of annoyance, “Sophie for the 100th time, no I do not want to talk abo-” Héloïse cuts herself off when she makes eye contact with those hazel eyes that make her mind go fuzzy. “Marianne.” Hearing Héloïse say her name was magical, like hearing a life orchestra playing a perfect song.

Marianne closes the door behind her and walks up to Héloïse’s wooden desk. She stands in between the desk and the chair she sat in last time. She refuses to sit this time. Anger builds in Marianne, a volcano about erupt out of her mouth, lava spewing everywhere. Héloïse’s eyes wash over with an expression that Marianne cannot read.

“Why have you been ignoring me? Are you scared of me or something?” Marianne asks, clear anger and a hint of sadness in her voice.

Héloïse takes a second before she responds, standing to meet Marianne’s eye level. “You are right. I am scared.” A pause. “But not of you. Of me.”

Héloïse words escape her mouth and she start to leave the room. Her strides are fast as if she is trying to run away from something. Like she was the prey and Marianne was the predator. Marianne is following behind her; she can hear the boots Marianne always hear against the marbled floor. Héloïse doesn’t dare turn though, afraid that if she turned, Marianne would be taken away from her.

Marianne follows her around some tables, barely avoiding Héloïse’s coworkers who seem to step aside for the blonde. She is hot on her trail where she follows Héloïse into an empty conference room. The only window is a small gap in the grey painted metal door. Completely isolated from the rest of the office. When Marianne enters, she sees that there is a large mahogany conference table in the centre, surrounded by black office chairs and a white board on the opposite wall from her. Héloïse stands at the opposite corner of the room from her with her back faced away towards the window that overlooks Paris.

Marianne closes the door, making sure she locks it and starts towards Héloïse. Héloïse has her hand rubbing her template and her head slightly tilted forward, her eyes shut. The only light source came from the large window. Marianne felt like she was stepping into the light, the light who is Héloïse herself.

Marianne stands beside Héloïse. Héloïse looking forward out the window and Marianne facing Héloïse. They weren’t parallel, they are converging.

Marianne starts to say something, but closes her mouth. She takes a second to examine Héloïse who had her hair down, lips red as always. She was wearing a black turtle neck tucked into tailored grey stripped slacks with a skinny brown belt that held the outfit together. She was wearing black heels which put her an inch over Héloïse. Marianne’s phone goes off, but none of them react to the noise.

Marianne starts again, “Look, I-” Her hands up in the air before her. She wants to reach out and touch Héloïse, but Héloïse was fine art that she doesn’t dare lay her hands on.

She was cut off by hands wrapped around her face and red lips pressed against hers. She froze still for a second but then her hands were in Héloïse’s blonde hair, kissing her back with every ounce of passion she has for this woman. It was like fireworks on the new year. Their kiss is colourful and explosive as their lips mold into each other’s. Marianne prays that Héloïse’s hands and lips burn into her, leaving scars of remembrance.

Neither of them knew they were walking backwards until Héloïse’s back hit the wall next to the white board. A slight noise came from the collision which broke the two apart. Their hands were still on each other, eyes locked too scared to tear away. Their eyes tell every emotion, but faces remain static. Both of them were panting because neither of them wanted to break the kiss to breath.

Maybe some feelings aren’t fleeting.


	7. Chapter 7

From that moment on, everything between them changed. They didn’t kiss again. Marianne left promptly after they both regained their breath and fixed their composure. Now, Marianne was at home alone and left to her thoughts. She is in her spot on her balcony _,_ smoking cigarettes, hoping to calm the burning feelings about Héloïse. So many thoughts race through her head.

She starts to imagine scenarios. Her and Héloïse going to the movies. Her and Héloïse sitting across from each other at a restaurant. Héloïse in her arms, under the stars and the only warmth is of each other. Marianne doesn’t believe in love. Something always went wrong; something always broke her into too many pieces. Too fine to pick up and put back together.

As she goes to light her third cigarette, her phone alerts her of a message. It is Vincent and he’s asking her to come to dinner with him and the boys. She stares at the message for a second, she doesn’t know what she feels. A second later, a name sends her heart racing appears on her screen. Héloïse.

 **Héloïse Leclair:** Would you like to come over for dinner at 7:30?

Héloïse’s address is attached to the message. There is no hesitation. Marianne quickly types a reply. 

**Héloïse Leclair:** Don’t be late.

* * *

Marianne rolls up to the location to the unknown address. It was a little far from her as it was on the opposite side of Paris. The sun has gone to sleep and the moon is out to play. It was eerily peaceful. There are faint sounds of cars in the distance, but the orchestra of crickets were loud as ever. It’s currently 8pm. She had difficulty finding her way, she's late. Again.

She is not greeted with a house, but instead a cobblestone driveway, closed off by a large metal gate. She double checks her phone to make sure this is the right location and starts towards the gate. She sees that there is a machine beside the gate with a number paid and a red button.

 **Marianne:** I’m outside, how do I get past this gate?

A moment later, the gate buzzes and the loud mechanics of the gate screech loudly. An awful sound for a location so serene like this. Once the gate was half way open, Marianne drives forward for what feels like hours. She reminds herself at this moment how much she hates cobblestone paths. It was bumpy and hard to control her bike at slow speeds.

As Marianne rolls around the corner, a grand mansion that looked like it was built from another period in time. It was mostly made out of white-tan bricks and too many windows. It looks like it can fit four families. There is a circular courtyard in the front, with a patch of very green grass in the middle. There are two cars parked on the small parking lot to the side of the house. One was a very expensive Maserati and another more modest Mercedes-Benz. Marianne has to remind herself that Héloïse was born into riches.

In front of the massive double wooden doors stood Héloïse. She is in navy sweat pants that have fuzzy socks over them and an oversized black hoodie. Her arms were crossed in front of herself to keep warm. Marianne swears she has never seen anyone as beautiful as Héloïse is right now. Standing in front of this palace, like a princess. Marianne only hopes to sweep her off her feet, like princes do.

Marianne stops her bike in front of Héloïse and sits there for a second. Visor down, wearing all black, like a shadow and looking at Héloïse. Héloïse face moves at the image in front of her. Marianne swears she sees a hint of a smile. Héloïse yells for Marianne to park beside to cars, which she does. Marianne climbs the stone steps up to the castle and is greeted with a genuine warm smile and a hug from Héloïse. Normally, people aren’t affectionate with Marianne so this takes her by surprise. She embraces the hug anyway and she relaxes.

Marianne doesn’t know how but Héloïse ingulfs her entire existence in her arms. She melts like ice in the fiery arms of Héloïse. She has never felt this level of comfort with another being before. It feels like their souls were made for one another. Polar opposites, and never destined to converge. But here they are, Marianne being pulled to Héloïse like gravity, keeping her grounded.

Their attraction can be compared to magnets. Opposite poles that attract, creating a strong magnetic bond, too difficult to pull apart. Their poles always seem to line up.

Without words spoken, they both enter the house. It was huge and everything was made out of dark wood, adding elegance to the place. Marianne felt out of place with her leather jacket and clunky boots, but a sense of comfort washes over her. The same feeling, she gets when she’s in bed after a long day. 

Héloïse gives her a place to put her stuff and they start towards the kitchen. It is lit by a fireplace hugging the wall and a large rustic wooden table in the middle with more modern chairs around it. It looks like it has barely been used. Sophie appears from behind a dark hole in the wall, clearly just waking from a nap. Héloïse mentions she has made some food that Marianne hasn’t heard of. Nonetheless, it was delicious.

After dinner, the girls decide to watch a movie. Marianne is lead through the long hallways; afraid she’d get lost in a maze so she stays close to Héloïse. They enter another room. Another fireplace is under the very large mounted TV, which Sophie starts to light. In front of the TV is a large light brown leather sofa and two love seats to the left and right pointed diagonally at the TV. Behind the couches is a pool table.

Marianne takes a seat on the couch as she watches Sophie start the fire while Héloïse goes to collect some blankets.

“You left suddenly today,” Sophie says to Marianne in a hushed voice, preventing the sound from reaching Héloïse’s ear in the other room.

Marianne recalls running out of the office with haste. She didn’t say good bye to Sophie. Marianne blushes slightly remembering the events of earlier. Before Marianne can answer, Héloïse returns with arms full of blankets which she places down on one of the loveseats. Héloïse shoots Sophie a stern look, she must have heard Sophie asking. Héloïse knowing Sophie would say something about today. Sophie gives her a indistinguishable look and the fire is lit.

Héloïse grabs the remote for the TV and asks, “What do you guys want to watch?”

Sophie recommends this new French lesbian movie called A Summer Storm. She convinces them by saying the women are hot and the movie is rated well. They all settled on the couch, Sophie and Marianne are on the ends while Héloïse was sandwiched in between. The couch was big enough to for there to be no contact between the three. Héloïse only brought two blankets down, saying it was the only two that she can find. Sophie knows this is a lie.

Sophie is cuddled on one end with the blanket, leaning on the sofa’s arm rest, focused intently on the movie. Héloïse sits in the middle like a log, careful not to move. Héloïse and Marianne shared a blanket, the stretched fabric pulls them closer together, but there was still a gap. Marianne tries to concentrate hard on the movie. So far, it is about two women who fall in love in a short amount of time. A passionate love. One in a life-time kind of love.

The movie goes on, Héloïse feels herself growing restless, sitting still and in close proximity of the woman she so desires. She slowly finds herself subconsciously inching towards the short haired woman to her left. Marianne senses that Héloïse is slowly inching towards her and her heart picks up. Marianne feels a hand on her knee. She turns her head to look at Héloïse who is staring at the TV, paying Marianne no attention. She looks past Héloïse to see if Sophie is aware, but it’s clear that Sophie is engrossed with the movie.

Marianne’s legs are currently crossed and her hands are in together in her lap. The girls in the movie are currently at a bonfire, stealing looks across the fire from each other. The heat from the fire distorts their clear view of each other. All at once, the music picks up, classical violins start to build as the vision of one of the lovers distorts further and further. Héloïse’s hands start to travel from her knee, upwards. The build up from the movie and Héloïse's hand on her thigh 

A rush of emotions all flood in Marianne. The passion from the movie, the intensity of the string instruments escalating in speed, volume and Héloïse’s scalding hand is scaling up her leg. Héloïse’s hand is now at her thigh, stopped by the closed hands of Marianne that sit in her lap. Marianne imagines the burning sensation of Héloïse's hot hands all over her body. The scene changes. The girls on a beach, the ocean is roaring and crashing into the shore, the girls are on the bottom of a jagged cliff, in a dark cave. Their lips finally meet the world seemingly stops with them.

Marianne looks to her right and Héloïse’s blue-grey eyes looks at hers. It feels as if their world has stopped. Héloïse’s eyes leave Marianne’s, they find their way to her lips and back up to her eyes. The connection between them was so raw, so animalistic. Something that is unable to be controlled. Somehow, Marianne supresses the urge to kiss Héloïse The kiss from earlier today plays in the brunette's head. She has never felt so free as she did kissing Héloïse. The passion, the desire and the want was equally matched. Like the girls in the movie, their world did stop. Marianne's convinced that no one will ever make her feel this alive. 

Héloïse hand remains rested on Marianne’s thigh for the duration of the movie. Yearning to be close. Every now and then she would feel Héloïse’s thumb move against the fabric of her jeans. Her heart rate is dangerously high for the rest of the movie. She could barely focus on the screen with Héloïse’s hand on her body.

It concludes with two lovers who fell madly in love with each other but unable to be together.

It leaves them both feeling empty.

Marianne wishes that it doesn’t happen to her.

Sophie is a sobbing mess by the end of the movie and Héloïse is trying her best to console her. Sophie’s head is in Héloïse’s chest with her arms wrapped around her as Héloïse runs her fingers through her hair. Marianne has not seen this side of Héloïse, so caring and thoughtful. In such a short time, Marianne has started to fall for the little quirks of Héloïse. Ones that no one else sees beside her.

A sob breaks the silence.

“Why couldn’t they just be together? They love each other so much.”

And their eyes connect.


	8. Chapter 8

Glances. That is all that is shared between them. Héloïse sits in the dark wood chair in front of a white back drop. It is gloomy spring day in Paris, raining on and off. The empty studio filled with the sounds of light pattering of rain drops hitting the window and cars outside. Héloïse’s expression is sharp, anger fully present on every feature of her face. She is wearing a green blazer that fits just right, with a white dress shirt that sticks out from under and matching green fitted slacks. Her top button is not done up, exposing her finely sculpted neck.

Marianne is standing behind the easel with her paint palette in one hand and a paint brush in another. Their session has been going on for 30 minutes, which most was spent mixing oil paints to produce colours that work in harmony with one another. Some strokes of paint have been applied.

“Why are you always so angry?” Marianne asked as she adds some white and red to the green she has been mixing. She brings the brush with green to the canvas and small strokes are placed in a precise manner.

“Anger always comes out to the fore,” Héloïse answers. Her gaze does not divert from Marianne.

Marianne raises an eyebrow at this comment. It really doesn’t answer her question, but she doesn’t ask again. Some more paints are applied to the canvas.

“What do you tell your models when you paint their portraits?” Héloïse is trying to break the tension between them. Constant glances at each other are full with want, making the air thick with desire.

Marianne looks away at the canvas and meets the blue eyes again. She runs the hand with the paint brush through her hair. “I tell them all sorts of stuff. Why? Are you bored?” Marianne’s playfulness brings a slight smile to Héloïse’s face, but it quickly disappears. She’s trying to not to smile.

“No. Not at all.” Héloïse’s eyes are so intense that Marianne has to look away. All she wants to do is walk over and kiss the blonde.

Without making eye contact, Marianne answers, “I usually tell them that they pose well.” A glance at Héloïse’s arm. A few more strokes of green are applied then more white paint is mixed. “Or I tell them that their face tells great emotions.” She puts down her green brush and moves to start on Héloïse’s eyes. It is not conventional how Marianne paints, but the end product is always exceptional. She mixes black and white together then adds it to blue paint. “I tell them that they look pretty.” Their eyes meet.

“You can’t say that to everyone,” Héloïse jokes, ignoring the burning sensation of her skin.

Marianne laughs and shakes her head in agreeance. “No. Just you.”

Héloïse frowns at this comment. She knows something that Marianne doesn’t. The painting is coming together.

* * *

Friday night approaches faster than Marianne imagines. The second session with Héloïse went smoothly. All the paint mixed correctly and blended well together. Héloïse sat for longer than the first day, only taking a 30-minute break during the three-hour session. Staring at her the entire time. Marianne felt like she was on fire the entire time.

Yesterday night, Héloïse and Vincent had another date. Héloïse failed to mention this during their time together, or the day before. Marianne is hurt, but understands that Héloïse isn’t hers. They’ve only shared more glances than words and one kiss. Vincent delivered the news to her when they met for lunch on Thursday. Marianne was good at producing no emotions on her face.

Vincent called her the morning after on his way to a meeting. She was drowsy from the late night at her father’s studio, helping him around with some classes and housekeeping. Marianne hasn’t heard his excitement in a long while. Vincent has finally earned a kiss from Héloïse. She can hear his grin through the phone when he explains it in full detail. They went to a park for a picnic and their lips met for more than one kiss. More than Marianne has had the pleasure of experiencing. He goes into great detail. Marianne stayed silent throughout the entire conversation. Offering one “I’m happy for you” at the end.

Marianne spent the day at her father’s studio, teaching kids about blending colours. Explaining how there are always many intricacies of other colours in one. How you must add the correct amount of different colours to attain the perfect tone. Sounds a lot easier than done.

Now, she was on her way to her brother’s once again. Movie night with the boys. She’s outside on his driveway, smoking a cigarette in the crisp night. It has been raining since Wednesday. The clouds weeping for her, the flames of the sun unable to break through the denseness of the clouds. Marianne has been quite absent towards Vincent, but even more so to Victor. Sharing little to no words when she’s around him. She doesn’t notice the Maserati parked on the road.

She turns the metal knob of the door and enters with her head down. It had started to rain right as she was finishing the cigarette and now, she is wet. Thankfully, she covered her bike before the rain stared. Her hood of her black sweater is up, covering her face from everyone and her vision own vision. “Sorry I’m late. Roads were slippery. I wanted to be careful.” She removes her hood and meets Héloïse’s eyes. They have not spoken more than a few messages in the past couple of days.

They don’t give each other any emotions. Walls are up on both sides. Cold ice walls from Marianne and fire surrounded walls from Héloïse. Sophie was there too, on top of benoit in the single lover’s seat. They all greet each other, but Héloïse’s lips don’t open. Everyone was in the same seats as at the party, the couch in front of them was pushed back and replaced with a TV on some dining chairs. The table in front of was full of snacks and wine.

There is only one spot left for her, beside Héloïse on the two-person sofa. Héloïse was cuddling close to Vincent with his arms wrapped around her, engulfed in a blanket together. Marianne can’t suppress the jealousy she feels. Héloïse should be cuddling her. She notices Héloïse’s displeasure. Héloïse stops cuddling with Vincent when Marianne sits down with a cup of wine in her hand. Marianne’s convinced she’ll explode due to the close proximity to the blonde. As if she were a ticking bomb.

They all settle on watching hereditary. Sophie didn’t like this option, but Benoit said he would keep her safe, which makes her reluctantly agree. During the movie, everyone was making funny comments, trying to supress their fright. Marianne and Héloïse stayed quiet, their eyes glued to the TV. Despite their efforts, it did not pay off as everyone screamed when the head connected to the post.

Marianne is fully aware of how her body feels pressed up to Héloïse. Every muscle in her body has been tense since the start of the movie and she is sure that Héloïse is tensed as well. Everyone around them is oblivious of the two. Marianne feels every nerve in her body fire when she hears Vincent whisper, “Are you okay babe?”

_Babe._

Héloïse breaks her concentration from the TV and turns to him to nod.

* * *

After the movie, Marianne and Vincent head outside to the front porch for a smoke. More like he sits beside her while she smokes. Immediately when the movie was over, Marianne shot up out of her seat to declare she is going for a smoke. Vincent agrees to go with her before Héloïse could.

The Alméras siblings now sit on the cement porch covered by the balcony above. It was lightly drizzling and the sound of wet car tires on asphalt can be heard a little distance away. Marianne is currently sucking on her cigarette, hoping that the nicotine will suppress her feelings for Héloïse.

After a little while of sitting in silence, Vincent decides to break the barrier. “You’ve been distant lately. Are you okay?”

Marianne feels bad for him. She loves him dearly and she know she has been distant, but what is she supposed to say? She doesn’t even know what she feels for Héloïse. She has only known the blonde for less than two weeks. She didn’t know what to say and she especially can’t say it to him. “Yes. Stressed with work,” is all she offered back.

He nods understandingly. Vincent knows Marianne well enough to know she is lying, but doesn’t push things further because he doesn’t want her to become more distant.

“I want to ask Héloïse to be my girlfriend. And I know what you’re going to say, ‘It’s too early, you’re being stupid’,” He says in a high-pitched voice, mocking her jokingly. The night wasn’t cold, but Marianne feels a shiver shoot up her spine at the mention of Héloïse being his girlfriend. He continues, “but hear me out. Sometimes you just know with a person, and I think that person is her. M, I think I’m falling in love with her.”

All of a sudden, thunder claps through the sky and a bolt of lightning lights up the clouds a second later. It is pouring now. The emotions of the sky onset rapidly and roaring loudly. Marianne feels like she’s about to cry. The feeling in her chest is so painful and tight that she can’t breathe. She doesn’t want to alarm her brother. The clouds are crying for her and the lightning shoots bolts to the ground, full of anger. She doesn’t break eye contact with the ground. She stares at it like it is artwork in a museum.

She takes a moment to collect herself. “That’s great Vinny. I am happy for you. I really am.” She sounds convincing enough. Inside she wants to explode.

Vincent gives her a bright smile. He needed to hear reassuring words from her. Marianne finishes her cigarette and they both go back into the house. The night is wrapping up and it is time to leave. It is still pouring outside, but the lightning has died down with Marianne’s anger. It isn’t Vincent’s fault he loves Héloïse. It is hers.

Marianne is about to put on her helmet when Héloïse speaks up, “You shouldn’t ride your bike in this rain.” These are the first words Marianne has heard from Héloïse since Wednesday. “Sophie and I can drive you home.”

Marianne looks at her in shock. She forgot how warming Héloïse’s voice is. It was like the perfect song to her ears. She ignores the feeling to comply and puts on her helmet anyway, leaving the visor down. She can’t stand to be looked at right now and this is her shield from that. “No. I need my bike tomorrow morning.” This came out harsher than intended, but Héloïse pushes on.

“Marianne,” Héloïse saying her name is like music to her ears. “It’s terrible outside. It’s not safe.”

Vincent appears beside Héloïse, standing four inches taller than her. He puts his arm around her waist and Marianne can see Héloïse tensing. “Don’t be stupid Marianne. Do you remember what happened to mom?”

With the final word that escaped Vincent’s mouth, he knows he had made a mistake. The front door was already open and Marianne is under the clouds. She pulls off her motorcycle cover in record time, puts it away in her back seat before mounting it and turning it on. Rain hits Marianne like she's standing under a waterfall. Héloïse is outside first. Somehow, even covered by the clouds, the moonlight finds its way to illuminate Héloïse. Her eyes are full of worry, but Marianne has sped off before she could open her mouth.

A tear falls.

Héloïse can’t lose her.


	9. Chapter 9

The streets are relatively empty, only a few souls are brave enough to enter the storm. It is past midnight and it is still pouring rain. It is cold out and moon now hid behind clouds, making it eerily dark. The roads were slick and all she can hear are tires on the asphalt. Marianne feels her phone vibrating from inside her jacket pocket, but of course she couldn’t answer it right now. _Do you remember what happened to mom?_ She feels her blood boil.

She knows he didn’t mean to say that with malicious intent, more in a concerned manner. But the mere act of bringing it out from under the surface is betrayal. Vincent knows the impact of their mother’s death on Marianne. Her senses are overwhelmed with emotions and she knows that she is not making rational decisions. She knows these conditions are far too unsafe for her to keep going.

So, she drifts along the pavement, unaware of her final destination. Maybe there isn’t one for her. Thunder echoes through the sky as the clouds weep. She feels as if the clouds are crying for her. She tries to remain stoic, but each passing minute, it becomes harder to breathe.

She carries the blame of her mother’s death on her shoulders every day. A hard burden to have weighing down every day. Yet, she endures it. She goes on every day with the guilt of what she has done. Marianne hasn’t forgotten what happened to her mother and she never will. She hasn’t found it in herself to forgive her own actions.

* * *

Marianne was out with friends on Saturday night, enjoying her youth while she had it. She is 26 today and all her friends threw her a surprise birthday party. They were on their way downtown Paris now going to a club. She wore a rather cute dark blue dress that ends above her knees with the same colour heels that added height to her. Her brunette hair was curled and down just past her shoulders.

Everything was perfect about her life. Her brother had just gotten into graduate school, her mom earned another grant for her research and her dad’s business was doing great, getting more clients. She worked for her dad as an art instructor, while he does all the commissioned work. She enjoyed what she does. She also has a super-hot girlfriend who she was sure she would marry. Everything was just perfect.

She was very close to her family. Her brother and her are best friends. Practically since birth, they have always been by each other’s side. When one was upset, the other would be there to console them. It was the Alméras siblings against the world. Her father and her were also very close. They constantly talked about art together as well as take trips to paint scenic views. Her mother and her were different though. It was as if her mother has cloned herself. They talked about everything together and Marianne always knew she could go to her mom. Her family was everything to her.

All her friends and her girlfriend are split up, trying to stay dry under the umbrellas. There were five of them, three of her friends are under one umbrella while her girlfriend and her were under another. They were close to the club and Marianne wore the biggest smile on her face. Vincent couldn’t come because he had a big test tomorrow.

One hour passed, she was feeling good and on the dance floor. The music pounding into ear drums and everyone was pressed against each other due to the sheer volume of people. The lights were flashing all sorts of colours on the dance floor but the surrounding areas were dark. It was gross, everyone was wet from the rain but Marianne didn’t mind. Her girlfriend was dancing in front of her, facing away and pushing her ass into her. Marianne’s hands were all over her girlfriend.

Another hour, she was taking shots at the bar with all her friends. She has lost count of how many she has consumed, but tequila tastes great. She could hear someone yell at her about taking a smoke break and she nodded. Everyone went out back of the club where the smokers go. It was so cold that Marianne could see her breath. Her girlfriend was behind her with her arms around her, trying her best to keep Marianne warm. Everyone was smoking and talking about stupid topics, none holding interest for longer than a few sentences.

Marianne’s phone rings. Marianne barely heard it, but her girlfriend helped her take it out of her purse before holding it up to Marianne’s ear.

“Hello?” Marianne slurs her words; her vision is going blurry.

“Marianne? Shit you’re drunk! Marianne, where are you?” She hears a frantic voice on the other side, but can’t recognize who it is and doesn’t realize the level of panic in the voice.

Marianne leans over to her girlfriend to ask where they were and her sober girlfriend took the phone. Before she knew it, she was in a car with her brother and girlfriend who was trying to help her put on clothes other than a dress. After a struggle, she was clothed and yanked out of the car. She was led into a building that was way too bright and way too frantic for her drunken state. She stands there leaning on her girlfriend as she hears inaudible dialog from someone in front of her.

Everything happened so quickly _._ The three rounded the corner and found Victor with his back on the wall bent down with his head in his hands. His sobbing was quiet, but it was the loudest noise Marianne has ever heard. She’s still drunk and doesn’t know the details of what has happened but knows it can’t be good.

The world started spinning. Her knees are weak. She can’t breathe. The doctor tells her that her mother is dead. Her injuries from the crash were too extensive and she died before she reached the hospital. It was later when her brother explained to her that their parents got into a huge fight. Victor had an affair and she left the house in a blaze. The accident wasn’t her fault. A drunk driver hit her in a head on collision. The driver of the other car is somehow alive and her mother was not.

Her mom tried to call her 5 times.

That night she broke up with her girlfriend. When she sobered up, she went to their shared apartment and despite the plea for her to stay, she grabbed as much of her stuff as she could then left. Never seeing her again. Marianne refused to talk to her dad and brother. She isolated herself for too many months, only doing her father’s commissioned work so she didn’t have to see him.

All her friends sided with her ex-girlfriend, but she didn’t care. She doesn’t need anyone. With all the alone time she had, she honed her art and became a very talented artist. Her name was going around France, and her popularity has grown. She swore to never get close to anyone ever again. She believed that being alone means being free.

It was almost a whole year after her mother’s tragic death is when she started letting her brother in again. He had made many efforts to reconnect throughout the twelve months, but results were futile. After running out of excuses to not meet him, she agreed to dinner after a month and half without seeing him. Something in her broke that night and she realized that being alone won’t fix her. So, she went against her promise one time for her brother and it has been worth it ever since.

* * *

The rain hitting her visor and sticking makes her visibility almost zero. It doesn’t help that her eyes are watery and blurry. She’s trying to run away. She feels so much anger, so much hurt, so much betrayal. She doesn’t know where she’s going. So, she drives towards the only place she feels safe. She feels her phone vibrates again.

The weight is there again. Most days the weight is barely there. It lingers in the shadows, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Most days she can breathe without a constant feeling of suffocation. Now she feels trapped underneath water that has frozen over, unable to find the exit if there even is one. Marianne has become very skilled at hiding her emotion, a blanket shelter coves her face. Most days she’s okay. She wishes she was better.

The cold is starting to penetrate her clothes as she flies through the wind. The area she’s going to is empty, there are no cars on the road besides the odd one that passes by every several minutes. There is no infrastructure in the area, making the barely paved roads harder and harder to see. There is more and more country, vast green fields and few lined with century old trees. This area is familiar as houses become farther apart and larger.

Her mind travels to Héloïse. Marianne compares her to the sun, but in reality Héloïse is the wind. Marianne is a leaf, floating through life until picked up by a gust of wind. Héloïse presence surrounds her ever since she met the blonde not long ago. Héloïse makes her feel like she can fly. Marianne is scared. She has never felt an instant connection towards another person like this before. Ever since she met Héloïse, she has felt like she can finally breathe again. Like a breath of fresh air.

She continues on the road ahead. The first tear falls, the rain falling down harder. Héloïse wasn’t hers. The thunder is back, but it sounds sadder than before, as if the clouds are sobbing. _Do you remember what happened to mom?_ She grits her teeth so hard that her jaw starts to hurt. She clenches harder to the handles of her bike, but she keeps driving. Anger bubbles and rises like hot steam. Vincent’s words stung deep. Of course, she remembers. Marianne thinks about her mother every single day. She imagines that if she answered her phone, that her mother would still be here today.

Yet, she is back where she began. All alone and full of emotions. She starts to feel her surroundings move faster. The speed feels comfortable.

Her mind subconsciously drifts to Héloïse. It physically hurts Marianne knowing that Héloïse is worried about her. Somehow in such a short time Héloïse has managed to root herself in Marianne’s walls, climbing up them like vines. It’s unavoidable the connection that they have. Never has being hostage to someone feel so good.

5 km/h faster. She remembers the memory of laying her eyes on Héloïse.

10 km/h faster. She remembers the feeling of Héloïse’s eyes on her.

15 km/h faster. She remembers the taste of Héloïse’s lips.

She starts to lose control.

It’s only fair that she suffers the same ill fate.


	10. Chapter 10

Oh, the ground is so cold. Marianne is lying on the ground faced down, her entire body is in pain. It had stopped raining as soon as she landed. It was silent around her, no cars, no people, nothing. It is peaceful, she imagines dying would be this serene. She opens her eyes for the first time since landing, but she still hasn’t moved. She sees herself illuminated by soft yellow light from the reflection of the damp ground.

She’s thankful to be alive. She’s thankful for her helmet and jacket, without those she was sure she’d be dead. They absorbed most of the impact and she is thankful she wasn’t going too fast. She is thankful that there were no cars around for her to injure. She is thankful that she can feel her cold toes wiggle in her boots. She is thankful that she can turn herself so that she is lying on her back. She's never been so happy to be alive.

The streetlight above her is so bright as she is directly under its yellow bulb. She takes her right gloved hand to see that the palms are mostly shredded, some blood from her palm can be seen under the dark leather. She takes the hand and slowly unzips her jacket. She notes how painful her hand is and how loud the zipper is. She reaches into her breast pocket and pulls out her phone.

Without sitting up, she lifts her left arm and takes off its glove. The palm of the glove is shredded, but not enough to reach skin. She takes her phone in her ungloved hand, using the other to lift her visor. The light is much brighter now that there isn’t a dark lens over her eyes. She unlocks her shattered phone and presses the most recent number that had called her. She makes sure the phone is on speaker.

“Marianne, where are you?”

Marianne calms. This voice feels like home.

“I don’t really know. I’m scared to move,” Marianne responds, her voice is strained. Her right leg and hand are burning from road rash. She flips the visor back down to block the intense light.

“Give me your location now.”

Marianne does just that. No one ends the call. She hears faint murmurs of curse words.

* * *

“Ow!” Marianne retracts her palm from the soft hands in front of her. Héloïse glares at her with fuming anger which makes Marianne cower. Marianne saw red in her eyes, like lava is about to spew out of her mouth. She gives Héloïse back her injured hand. Her injuries weren’t too extensive. Some bruising is forming from the impact and the road rash covers a good portion of her right side. The pain isn’t awful, very bearable. She’s lucky.

They’re both in the entertainment room of Héloïse’s house. On the exact couch where Héloïse’s hand was on her thigh. Marianne is lying down on her back, her head turned towards the woman in front. The room was brightly lit by the fireplace in front of sofa. The crackling of the firewood and the smell of the room is pleasant. Héloïse sat in front of the fireplace, the golden glow surrounds her silhouette. She truly looks like she’s on fire. _The lady on fire._ Héloïse sits on the floor in front of Marianne dabbing hydrogen peroxide-soaked cotton ball onto her wounds. She was gentle with her touch, afraid to hurt Marianne.

She starts to dab Marianne’s hand again. A couple of dabs and she stops to look at Marianne who watches her intently. Marianne offers her a smile small, but Héloïse gives her a daring squint instead. She was really not happy with Marianne right now.

Once the wound on her hand was clean and bandaged, Héloïse wanted to move onto the scratches on Marianne’s leg. She took most of the impact on her right side when she turned her bike so it slid out from under her. Marianne was still in her damp jeans, both of them were too scared to take it off, risking further injury.

When they arrived to the house, Sophie was asleep so they were trying to be quiet. It was hard because most of Marianne’s weight was being supported by Héloïse. The clunked around as a unit, where Héloïse laid Marianne down on the couch and proceeded to start the fire. Héloïse had helped Marianne out of her now useless jacket. She insisted that they go to the hospital, but the last time Marianne was in a hospital was during her mother’s death.

Marianne uses her hands to start unbutton her pants. Her pain is dulling from the pain medication she took earlier. Once the button was free and the zipper was undone, Marianne holds the waistband of the jeans and starts to pull her jeans off. She only got down to half her thigh before the pain became too much. Marianne looks to Héloïse for some assistance and with unspoken words, Héloïse grabs the ends of her jeans.

It is so erotic. Marianne wishes the circumstances were different, but nonetheless Héloïse is still taking off her pants. Once the jeans were on the ground, Héloïse goes to grab a new cotton ball. Marianne is watching her move around the entire time. Marianne feels a tightness in her chest, but it doesn’t feel bad.

“Stop looking at me,” Héloïse mumbles as she starts dabbing Marianne’s road rash.

Marianne winces at the pain, but smiles wide at Héloïse. This receives a smile back. Both of them ignoring the fact that Marianne has her pants off and is only in a t-shirt and her underwear. Héloïse is currently in a loose green hoodie with black yoga pants on. This is Marianne’s favourite version of Héloïse, even though her ass is mint in those tailored slacks.

“You should make a career change. You’re a great nurse,” Marianne laughs lightly, careful not to worsen her bruised rib.

Héloïse is not in the mood for jokes. Marianne’s laugh died as soon as she sees the fire in Héloïse’s eyes. “Marianne, you could’ve died!” Her voice is raising past a whisper, but there was a hint of worry. “You just ran out and scared me shitless. You should’ve taken my offer to drive you home. You had everyone worried. Did you not think about what could’ve happened? I could’ve lost you.” The last part was barely a whisper.

The room is silent. The air is thick with tension like fog. Marianne doesn’t know what to say and Héloïse doesn’t know why she said it. They are both staring at each other searching for some answers, for someone to say something.

_I could’ve lost you._

“He mentioned my mother,” Marianne’s voice breaks with her eye contact. She now stares at the ceiling of the dimly lit room as tears start to pool in her eyes.

Héloïse remains silent, her eyes still on the brunette. She was so worried to a point where she was crying in the car ride home. Sophie had tried her best to calm Héloïse down but there was only so much she could do while driving in terrible conditions. Héloïse was so anxious when she drove towards Marianne’s shared location.

Marianne’s voice breaks the silence. “She died on my 26th birthday. I was out clubbing and her and my dad got into a fight and she was so mad so she just left and it was raining really hard and I couldn’t hear my phone Héloïse. She called me 5 times but I couldn’t hear my phone. I couldn’t do anything and when I got to the hospital, she was already dead.” Héloïse can hear the pain in Marianne’s voice. She sees a tear escape Marianne’s eye and pats it away with her sleeve.

“It’s not your fault,” Héloïse quietly says trying to calm down Marianne. She knows her emotions are high right now. “My sister left me a note when she died.” Héloïse starts to play with the brunette’s short hair with her fingers. Marianne turns her eyes towards Héloïse who is focused on her hand in Marianne’s hair. “She mostly talked about how much she loves me and how my future is bright. She apologized to me for leaving me her fate. I always feel like I could’ve done more.”

Héloïse stops playing with Marianne’s hair and meets her eyes again. Both still grieving from losing someone special. Marianne is right, she does understand Héloïse. A large urge in Marianne took over. She props herself up on her elbows and leans in towards Héloïse. She stops just before meeting Héloïse’s lips, looking into her eyes, asking the blonde to meet her half way. Both their hearts are racing in sync, like a drumline.

And she does. Their kiss is soft and slow. There is no rush. The world can wait for them this time. Their lips move in unison and feels like they fit perfectly together. One kiss became many. The pace didn’t pick up, they took their time savouring each other’s touch. Héloïse tastes just how Marianne remembers. This feeling is so comfortable, yet so fleeting. She feels a need build up inside of her. A burning flame that will not die. She needs to have Héloïse in every aspect that one can have another. She needs her in the mornings and nights. Her entire existence yearns for the blonde. It feels alive to be on fire all the time.

After a few minutes, Marianne’s arms start to ache from holding herself up for long. She tries to sit up alone, but unable to do so which prompts Héloïse’s hands on her to help. Marianne is now sitting up with her back imprinting the couch’s back. Héloïse’s hands left her body but Marianne still feels them on her. The scars from her touch feels so good. Héloïse is on Marianne’s left, half on the couch. Her face half lit by the dying fire.

Marianne leans in for another kiss and Héloïse meets her half way. This kiss is different than the one before. There is more passion, more eagerness from them both. Héloïse brings herself fully onto the couch, making sure not to break their lips apart. Her hands are carefully touching Marianne’s face, being as delicate as possible to not hurt the brunette. She’s adding fuel to Marianne’s fire with every touch. Marianne’s body is burning from within, no longer feeling any of her injuries.

Héloïse is one hell of a drug.

They continue to make out quietly. The room is silent, the only sounds are their lips connecting. The wood in the fireplace has turned into coals that glow red, only producing a small flame. The flame has now embedded in each of them, together making an uncontrollable fire. The room is so warm but Marianne can’t decide if it’s from the fire or from the desire building inside of her. Héloïse lets out a small moan as they continue to make out and that’s all Marianne needed to hear. Marianne breaks the kiss, opening her eyes to see a disappointed Héloïse. The pout on her face is adorable.

As fast as they stopped kissing, not one second later, their lips connect again. Héloïse is straddling Marianne now. The dull pain from her accident earlier is in the back of her mind. All she feels is the warm of her skin where Héloïse touches her. Héloïse is leaving lasting imprints on her. Marianne has her arms around Héloïse, holding her as close as she can to her. Any closer and they’d merge into one entity. Héloïse’s hands are in Marianne’s hair and their lips are on fire.

Marianne has an intense desire to feel Héloïse’s skin against hers. She is basically naked while Héloïse was still fully clothed and in bulky attire. She moves her hands from around Héloïse’s back and finds them at the hem of the green sweater. She is careful not disrupt their touch. Almost instantly at the feel of Marianne’s hand on her skin, Héloïse moves back from her, breaking the kiss. Marianne’s eyes full of lust as Héloïse starts to pull the sweater over her head.

Like in slow motion, her sweater lifts and her pale skin is exposed to the darkness of the room. Marianne’s mouth goes dry when she expects to see fabric next, but instead she sees Héloïse fully exposed skin. They hear her phone goes off, but it is ignored as their lips coming crashing together like rough waves against a rocky shore.

Another moan erupts from Héloïse’s throat which results in Marianne’s lips detaching from hers, trailing light kisses down her jaw, then to her neck. Another heavenly moan escapes and fill the room, another ding from her phone. Choosing to ignore it, she licks Héloïse’s neck all the way to her ear, where she places a gentle bite on her lobe. Héloïse’s breath is deep and she’s becoming increasingly breathless.

“Marianne,” Héloïse moans her name when she moves back to her neck, sucking on it lightly. Her voice full of want, it makes Marianne overcome with more hunger. Héloïse’s hands has moved from Marianne’s hair and to her shoulders. Marianne successfully finds Héloïse’s spot, which causes Héloïse to grip Marianne’s shoulders. Numbing pain is now in the fore, but it wasn’t the thing that stopped their actions. Instead, it was Marianne’s phone for the third time.

“Fuck!” Héloïse’s annoyance is laced within word, this brings a smile to Marianne’s face.

They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity before Marianne’s phone goes off again. Her phone is on the other couch so Héloïse angrily goes to retrieves it for her. Marianne cringes when she sees the spiderwebbed screen. Vincent’s name is on her screen, multiple times since it started ringing but like everything else the noise was faded into the background.

 **Vincent:** Marianne??? Are you okay? Can you pick up your phone? CALL ME 2:24am

 **Vincent:** Dude, I’m starting to freak out. Please call me. 2:25am

 **Vincent:** I’m about to call the police I swear to god you have 2 minutes to answer me 2:26am

 **Vincent:** ONE MINUTE! I’m dialling 911 2:27am.

Marianne swallows a breath. She looks at Héloïse then back at her phone when she receives no advice on what to do. She decides it would be best to call so she presses his name then the call button.

It rings once before her brother’s tired and worried voice echoes through the phone, “Marianne?”

“Yeah,” is all she manages to get out. Marianne’s focus on Héloïse, who is fetching her sweater from the ground. They make eye contact, Marianne sending her a very obvious sex look before Héloïse puts the sweater back on.

Her attention was drawn back to the call when he sighs, full of relief. She can hear him rustling on the other side but can’t decipher what he is doing. “I was worried that I’d get a call and you’d be dead somewhere on the side of the road.” He sounds as if he has been crying. “M, I’m sorry I brought it up. It was stupid. I was stupid. I know I fucked up. I’m sorry. Please forgive me, I promise I won’t do it again and promise me that you won’t pull this shit again.”

Marianne listens to his words, but as sincere is apology was, she can't find it in her heart to forgive him just yet. “I forgive you and I promise,” she lies.

“Where are you now?”

Marianne knows telling him that she’s at Héloïse’s house would be a bad idea. So, she lies again. It is one of the skills she had mastered during her time alone. “I’m at home. Go to sleep, it’s late and I’m okay.”

After a pause, he says his goodbye and hangs up.


	11. Chapter 11

Marianne wakes up to melodic birds and golden rays entering through the window near the bed. It is Saturday morning. Her entire body aches as the remembrance of the events that occurred the night prior. Her heart sinks. She could have made a fatal mistake yesterday and hurt the people closest to her. As she slowly wakes, the memories flood her like a hurricane. Some movement beside her occurs, causing her to turn her very sore neck towards the other side of the bed.

Her eyes meet with golden locks that she has studied the way they fall many times. Héloïse’s back is turned towards her, the covers up just under her bare shoulder. The sun sneaks through the glass of the balcony door to illuminate Héloïse, a warm glow surrounding her silhouette. Marianne’s convinced that Héloïse is an angel that’s the only sane explanation for a woman so divine. Marianne continues to study her, revered by everything about the blonde. The gentleness of her breathing, the way her body moves with each breath. The way her hair falls perfectly, even in deep slumber. Marianne’s convinced that she’s dreaming, wanting to reach out to make sure that this is not an illusion. Marianne is in bed with Héloïse and they’re both naked.

Marianne’s mind tears away from the blonde as the accident replays in her mind. She remembers how scared and calm she was. It was a battle of emotions raged war inside of her that entire night. It was an exhausting night. Every frame of yesterday’s movie replay. From entering the house, watching a body burn in the movie, to crashing her bike somewhere on the country road. She sighs sadly at the thought of losing her bike. She loved that thing; it was her only sense of freedom in this world and now it’s gone. Marianne’s more upset at the fact that she has to replace all her gear, which is going to put a nice dent in her bank account. But from the fact that her body is unable to move without aching pain is a sign she won’t be on one soon. That’s just great. How is she supposed to get from place to place now? She guesses she can uber or ask for rides, but she hates to be dependent.

Marianne moves her head back to the sleeping figure next to her. She has never met someone so enticing before. Someone that she felt an instantly yearn for. Surely, this is just a display of lust. She tries to convince herself that there is a lack of emotion towards Héloïse. That it is purely physical, even though her mind and body both ache for her.

Héloïse starts to slur out of sleep, slowly her movement becomes more frequent. It was not long before they’re staring at each other. Faces expressionless, eyes lost in each other’s soul. Marianne was first to speak first, her voice raspy from the early morning, “Morning.”

Héloïse’s eyes light up, somehow becoming bluer than normal. Marianne can see a hint of green in her eyes which has replaced the grey. A warming smile reaches Héloïse’s lips. Marianne can feel her walls melting. This is truly heaven on earth.

“Bonjour,” Héloïse wiggles closer to Marianne. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I was in an accident yesterday,” Marianne jokes lightly. This earns her a frown.

“Not funny.” Marianne thought she would see anger reach Héloïse’s features, but instead it remains soft. Their faces are close and Marianne can feel Héloïse’s hot breath on her. There is a pause. Marianne could see in Héloïse’s eyes that she had something to say.

“Have you ever been in love?” Héloïse asks this question, barely audible over the birds.

Another pause. Marianne’s sure that Héloïse can see it in her eyes. “Yes.”

“What is it like?” Héloïse directs this question in an odd fashion. She’s more asking Marianne if she loves her. She hopes Marianne can pick up on it.

“Like I am on fire.” This earns her a warm smile from the blonde. Héloïse has heard of her nicknames before. _The lady on fire_. Every time she laughs or smiles, Marianne’s heart skips a beat. Seeing Héloïse happy is easily one of her favourite things. Easily comparable to the feeling of riding her bike without a helmet on. Héloïse is met with a big smile on the brunette’s face.

“Me too.”

Everything is so perfect during this time. It feels right to be together. Like they were a missing puzzle piece in each other’s heart.

* * *

A little more time was spent in bed before both appeared in the kitchen to greet Sophie. She was surprised to see Marianne, but more worried about the bruises that were visible. Marianne explained that had happen that night, leaving out many details in the entertainment room and did not specify where she slept. Sophie scolded her, but she willingly accepted it. The conversation ended with Sophie saying she is glad that Marianne is here and safe. Sophie smiles at Héloïse before announcing that she had to go to the store and left with that.

Héloïse fixes breakfast for the both of them as Marianne rests on the bar stool. She is currently using Héloïse’s laptop, browsing for a new bike. Light conversation filled the room. By the time breakfast was presented, Marianne has contacted two potential sellers. They quickly ate breakfast before leaving the house towards Marianne’s flat.

Héloïse is behind the wheel with sunglasses up and her hair up a loose bun. Her blonde curls are messily falling out. The sunroof is down since it is a nice warm sunny day. Spring is coming to a close as with the last downpour of rain of the season and tomorrow marks the first day of summer. The upcoming Monday will mark two weeks of since their first meeting.

Time flew by with the easy conversation between the two, the 25-minute drive felt like 10. Before they knew it, Marianne is unlocking her front door. The door screeches open as the dark one-bedroom flat is greeted by the warm light flicking on. Héloïse takes a second to examine the place. There was a small open kitchen beside the entrance and on the opposite side was a bathroom. The entire back of the flat housed a single room which bad a large bed pushed to the left side, a TV with some gaming consoles on the right with a couch in the middle dividing the room in half.

Marianne’s walls were filled with mostly printed artwork and a few canvases hung from the grey walls. There are messy clothes scattered on the floor as well as loose papers from sketches that have flown off the tables from when the balcony is open. The bed wasn’t made and on it is a fold up table with an open sketchbook and charcoal on it. Sunlight is entering through the balcony door. Héloïse smiles knowing that this is the sole definition of who Marianne is.

Marianne takes the first step into the flat, throwing her keys onto the kitchen countertop. The noise rings through the room, making them cringe. Héloïse steps into the apartment, closing the door behind her, following Marianne into the flat after taking off her shoes. Marianne apologizes for the mess left on the floor from nights before, carefully bending over to pick up dirty laundry and dropping it in her basket located in the closet.

Héloïse hurries to stop Marianne, “Don’t worry about that. You need to shower and rest.”

Marianne stops cleaning and starts to strip. Héloïse is surprised by the sudden action as if she hasn’t already seen the brunette naked already. Marianne’s back is turned to Héloïse and starts with her shirt, pulling it slowly off her head. This causes Héloïse’s pupils to widen and her mouth water. Just the thought of last night causes visceral desire. Héloïse’s eyes travel the brunette’s back, grimacing at the purple contusions that line her right side. A few scratches here and there but Héloïse she finds her beautiful.

Héloïse swallows the fire that grows inside of her. She walks towards, her hands tremble from excitement. They haven’t spoken about last night and Héloïse is unaware of Marianne’s emotions about the events of last night. She raises her hands slowly. Marianne is still faced away from her but her face is turned slightly to see. She can see Marianne’s laboured breathing when her hand lightly brushes her back.

They stand stationary for a second, Marianne’s head turns slightly more to meet Héloïse’s stare. Héloïse doesn’t waste any time turning Marianne around and kissing her hard. Marianne’s hands tangle themselves in blonde locks and lets her tongue explore the taste of Héloïse. Moans escape from their throats, wanting nothing more than to fuse together. This is so much more than just lust and infatuation.

Marianne broke the kiss to take Héloïse’s hand and leads her to the bathroom. Hands let go when inside, and the lights flicker on. Héloïse stands still watching a half-naked Marianne turn on the shower. The running shower mutes all other sounds. Marianne turns to face Héloïse bringing her hands to the hem of Héloïse’s shirt. Héloïse in response lifts her arms up, their eyes are burning into each other’s souls.

* * *

It’s Wednesday now, the bright sun greeting Marianne’s face through her balcony. She can hear cars on the street and people talking in groups, the overall bustling of a city. The sun is high in the sky with no signs of clouds. There hasn’t been a cloud in the sky since last Friday. Marianne feels as though the weather is indicative of her own emotions.

Since the crash, Marianne has managed to replace all her broken equipment from before, but has yet to drive the motorcycle around. Héloïse has been her main mode of transportation if needed. Marianne has taken off Monday and Tuesday to recover from her injuries which are mostly painless now.

Marianne rolls over to grab her phone from her nightstand to check her phone. It is just after 11am and has multiple messages from Héloïse and Vincent. She has yet to tell Vincent about Héloïse or the accident, but, how could she? He loves Héloïse. She can’t risk losing her brother nor can she risk losing Héloïse. She also definitely can’t tell him about the accident because he will think it was his fault. With a deep sigh and her hand through her hair, she ignores the topic and goes to answer her messages.

 **Vincent:** Hey M, haven’t heard from you in a while. How is everything?

 **Marianne:** hey Vinny, i’ve been fine. sorry i’ve been mia, i think i got a coldbut starting to feel better now. how are things on your end?

 **Vincent:** I’m doing all right. I graduate on friday so that’s fun. You’re still coming to my graduation ceremony, right?

 **Marianne:** i wouldn’t dare miss it

 **Vincent:** Have you heard from Héloïse?

Her stomach drops and her vision goes blurry. He must know about her and Héloïse. She lies anyway.

 **Marianne:** no, i have my session with her today and she hasn’t cancelled so i guess i’ll see her then.

 **Vincent:** Oh, she’s probably just busy then. I have class now so I gtg. Ttyl M.

A rush of anxiety floods her. What kind of sister is she to steal her brother’s lover away like that? She just hopes that Héloïse doesn’t feel the same way about him. She knows that she should just tell him. She promises herself that she will soon.

She goes to look at her conversation with Héloïse.

 **Héloïse:** Good morning.

 **Héloïse:** I wish you woke up earlier. I miss you :(

 **Héloïse:** I’m stopping by after work. You better be up <3

Her heart flutters at the heart emoji that Héloïse added. Marianne checks the time and knows that Héloïse leaves early today, so she should be on her way. Marianne decides she wants to shower before Héloïse comes. She wipes the sleep out of her eyes and

 **Marianne:** Door’s open.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: really nsfw :) there's little to no plot development, so you could skip this chapter and not miss anything.

Marianne is embraced by hot water spraying onto her skin. The warmth relaxes her as the bathroom fills with steam. She’s playing music from her laptop, a playlist that she made about Héloïse. The soft indie song fills the bathroom, no other noises can be heard other than the song playing at the moment. The song isn’t merry, but it is lively. Marianne closes her eyes to listen to the lyrics and her heart is happy. She starts to hum the song as she conditions her hair.

The song ends as soon as she’s doing lathering her hair. Before the second song can start the shower, curtain whips open, startling Marianne. Marianne tries to cover herself as she turns towards the intruder.

“What the fuck!” Marianne screams at the intruder.

“It’s just me,” Héloïse says back with her hands up, surrendering in case Marianne attacks her.

Marianne calms as the sight of the blonde, thankful it wasn’t anyone else. When her panic subsides, she starts to realize the image in front of her. Héloïse has stripped out of her work clothes and is standing bare in front of Marianne. Both of them stay static, appreciating each other’s body. There is a desire present in their eyes when they meet seconds later.

Héloïse steps into the shower, Marianne is partly under the water to make room for her. Marianne notices that the water that splashes off her and onto Héloïse seemingly evaporates when making contact with her skin. They just stand in the shower for a second. Héloïse has missed Marianne, always feeling her absence when they are not together. The music still playing in the back, but now sounds like white noise.

Héloïse raises her hands and cups Marianne’s cheeks in the most tender manner. She leans in to kiss the brunette. The kiss was soft and full of love. Héloïse breaks to kiss to move her hands to Marianne’s scalp. Marianne tilts her head back slightly, submerging her hair under the water as Héloïse rinses the conditioner out. This action turns on Marianne. Rarely has she ever felt this tenderness laced with eroticism before.

Héloïse goes to open her mouth to say something, but was rudely cut off by Marianne’s lips on hers. The brunette hungrily kisses, the roughness pushes the blonde against the white tiled wall. She shivers at the cold tile on her hot skin, but kisses Marianne back with equal amount of want. Marianne bites Héloïse’s lower lips and pulls slightly, gaining her a moan in result causes her to smile.

Héloïse’s arms wrap around Marianne’s naked waist and pulls her in. Every exposed surface of skin was in contact with each other, the heat between them is melting them together. They continue to make out for many more minutes, the music continues to flow through the heavily steamed air. Soon, the water becomes ice cold before Marianne realizes that her hot water is has run out.

“Holy shit, that’s so cold,” She says this in between kisses. “We need to get out.”

Héloïse bites her lip and nods. She’s very wet and it’s not from the shower, she didn’t even get to touch the water. Marianne turns off the water, cringing at the cold when it touches her skin. They both exit the shower and dry off. Marianne gives Héloïse the towel first to dry herself and waits patiently. No one says a word. Their breathing is heavy and the room is quiet. The song is still playing.

Héloïse starts to listen to the lyrics. Her eyes watch Marianne drying off.

_Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?_

* * *

They both stand at the foot of Marianne’s bed. The summer air is blowing in through the slightly opened window. Héloïse has her back to the bed and Marianne standing in front. They’re staring at each other again. It seems to be their favourite activity together; getting lost in each other’s soul. Marianne had brought her laptop from the bathroom and connected it to her Bluetooth speakers.

“Are you going to just stare? Or you going to come here and fuck me?” Marianne’s eyes widen. Héloïse has never been this forward, but she doesn’t have the patience for all this staring today. There was a little aggression laced in her voice.

Without missing a beat, Marianne puts her hands on her shoulders and pushes with enough force to make Héloïse’s knees buckle. Héloïse is caught by the bed and Marianne’s already hovering above her. Marianne has Héloïse’s wrists in her hands and are holding her arms down on the bed. This is the only contact by the two. Marianne’s on her knees and is avoiding any contact with Héloïse. Héloïse squirms under Marianne, trying to bring her skin to the brunette’s, but Marianne is stronger than her, holding her down tighter.

Héloïse pouts, “Please fuck me.” Marianne can hear the whine in her voice.

Deciding to tease her on, Marianne gives her a poorly constructed confused look. “What? I didn’t quite catch that.” Marianne’s thigh is now pressed against Héloïse.

Héloïse’s eyes shut at the pressure and she slightly moves her hips to increase the pressure. A moan escapes from her perfectly shaped lips and more breathless pleas, “Please Marianne.”

Marianne lowers herself towards Héloïse’s ear. Her body warmth is radiating off her and onto Héloïse. Marianne’s hot breath is on Héloïse’s ear and whispers, “Tell me what you want.” Her teeth connect with the cartilage. Héloïse moans again, but this time it’s throatier.

She can barely get out her next words, “You. Inside me. Now.”

Héloïse is always so demanding in bed.

Marianne being the tease that she is, doesn’t give Héloïse what she wants. She brings herself from the side of Héloïse’s face and starts to place feather light kisses on Héloïse’s jaw, trailing towards her lips. As she gets close to her lips, Héloïse opens her mouth slightly to accept any contact. Her eyes are still closed, she wants to experience the sensation of Marianne’s touch and mot be distracted by anything around her.

Marianne’s kisses just barely avoid Héloïse’s lips. Another pout appears on Héloïse’s face and her eyes open to see hazel. “Stop teasing me, please.” Who knew the lady on fire would be a beggar?

“No,” Marianne responds with a glint of joy in her voice. She loves being a tease, especially for Héloïse. She lets go of Héloïse’s wrists, “If you touch me, I stop. Understood?”

Héloïse nods quickly and lips her lower lip. Any more of this teasing and she’ll lose it, so she decides to listen to Marianne in hopes of gaining what she wants. Listening is rewarded with a kiss from Marianne, but it doesn’t last to long. As she pulls away, she sees Héloïse head lift, seeking for more contact. Héloïse blue-grey has have changed and the grey was replaced with green around her pupils. These colour changes make her eyes look even more on fire.

Marianne lowers herself again, making sure to move her thigh as she does. Another gasp and her lips connect with Héloïse’s neck. Her laboured breathing fills the air. Her body begins to ache for the brunette. Marianne’s thigh lifts off of her and is quickly replaced by a hand. Marianne teases her open with a light trailing of one finger.

Héloïse hands grip the bed sheet in anticipation. She wants to touch Marianne so badly, but the last time she didn’t listen to her, she was left wanting. She had learnt her lesson so clumps of fabric fill her hands instead. “Marianne, please.” Héloïse gasps. She’s sure that she’ll explode if Marianne teases any longer.

Marianne decides the treat the blonde by slowly inserting a finger. A long moan leaves Héloïse’s lips but is quickly captured by Marianne’s lips. She’ll never get tired of hearing Héloïse’s pleasure. She starts to slowly move her one finger in and out of Héloïse, hearing faint gasps every time she re-enters. Suddenly, Héloïse roughly grabs Marianne behind the neck and pulls her in for a hard kiss.

During this, Marianne decides to slip in two fingers earning another moan, this time Héloïse breaks the kiss by arching her head back. Marianne takes this as her cue to descend down Héloïse’s body, leaving a trail of wet kisses as she does. Once she has reached her destination, she removes her fingers and immediately starts tasting her lover.

Héloïse chest is heaving as Marianne’s tongue explores her. She desperately needs to touch Marianne. So, she does, forgetting about Marianne’s demands earlier. Her clenched hands leave the fabric and tangle themselves into the brunette’s grown out hair. She is brought to the realization of what she has done when she loses all her pleasure at once.

Héloïse lets out her frustration with a groan and whines, “Why did you stop?”

Marianne hovers over the blonde, “You touched me. Remember what I said?”

Héloïse takes this as a challenge. She can be submissive, but she needs to remind Marianne who’s really in charge. Marianne sees a hint of red in Héloïse’s eyes. Marianne thinks she is in a good position, having the lady of fire beneath her and begging for her touch. It’s not long after their staring contest for dominance when Héloïse slowly drops her hand down her body. Marianne sees this action and her eyes follow the hand until another moan escapes Héloïse’s mouth.

Marianne is hovering there in awe. Is she really watching Héloïse touching herself? The moans are closer together and Héloïse’s breathing is getting heavier. Marianne snaps out of it and realize that Héloïse is winning this dominance battle. In one motion, Marianne stops Héloïse’s hand and draws up her wet fingers into her mouth. She’s met with the taste of Héloïse she knows a little too well and licks them until there’s nothing left.

Marianne meets eyes with Héloïse who now has a blank face, as if she has transcended into another dimension. The fire in her eyes are more evident now. Marianne drops her hand and starts to drop downwards again, leaving little bites on her delicate skin as she does. Without any hesitation, Marianne enters Héloïse again with two fingers, feeling the slickness as she does. She lowers her mouth as well; her tongue and fingers move in unison.

The rhymical movement of both actions start to push Héloïse to climax. She feels a building pressure. Her hands are back in Marianne’s hair, but this time the brunette doesn’t stop. Every minute, her speed increases. Héloïse’s starting to lose feeling in her fingertips. Héloïse notes that Marianne is very good at this, the best she has ever had.

Héloïse begins back pulls off the bed. Her legs are shaking as intense euphoria floods her entire body and a heavenly sound fills the room, overshadowing the music. Marianne doesn’t slow down, even after Héloïse has come down from her euphoric state. Her mouth is dry from the constant escape of air out of her mouth.

Héloïse grasps the bed sheets once again has she is overcome with a second wave of a storm of ecstasy _._ And again. Héloïse is exhausted after her third orgasm. She can feel her entire turn to liquid. If Marianne didn’t stop, Héloïse is sure she’d melt into a puddle. She could barely lift her arm to tap Marianne to stop, but was unable to stop it before the fourth wave from washing her up. Her hands are white from gripping the bed so tightly.

As she was coming down from the high, Marianne hovers back up and plants a wet kiss. Héloïse can taste herself on Marianne’s lips. The kiss is soft and tender.

* * *

The room is silent now. Not a sound within the room, but faint breathing. The streets were loud as ever and the birds all seem to be singing their favourite songs. The sun is high in the sky and both women are firmly planted in Marianne’s bed. Shortly after Héloïse’s fourth orgasm, she fell asleep out of exhaustion. Marianne quietly praises herself for her good work. Their third session starts in two hours and it’ll be a long one so Marianne decides to let the blonde sleep. She’s bored though.

Marianne decides to pull out her sketchbook and pencil, knowing this was the quietest activity she could do to ease her boredom. She flips through her previous sketches, most are portraits of actors on her TV that she uses as practice, some of landscapes and architectural buildings around her and recent pages only filled with her muse.

Her eyes on one page. Her lips on another. Her hands on the next. Every image in this book is drawn directly from memory and the accuracies are stunning. It was as if Marianne had printed a picture in black and white of these parts of Héloïse and pasted them in the book. The latest page holds an unfinished drawing.

She flips to a new page and looks at the sleeping face that is turned towards her, covered by the white covers. Marianne has never seen Héloïse look so at peace. Like every worry, every emotion in Héloïse ceased to exist in this moment. Marianne captures the moment in her sketchbook.

Nearing the completion of the sketch, Marianne takes one more look at Héloïse. Her hazel eyes are captured by blue-green eyes. The intensity is so evident.

Marianne’s breath is taken away every single time.


	13. Chapter 13

As soon as the time read 2:10pm, Héloïse is already dressed and ready to leave for their third session together. Of course, Marianne being Marianne was running around frantically, searching for her phone. She hasn’t checked that thing since she first woke up and now it has gone missing.

“Héloïse, have you seen it? I have no idea where it could be,” Marianne asks from under the bed the other woman who is also looking around for the small device.

“I would’ve told you if I did,” Héloïse responds in a huff as she finishes searching the kitchen with no positive results. Héloïse is conditioned to always arrive at scheduled events early and this would be the first time ever she’s late to something. Even though, she is with the scheduled company, she still can’t help but feel a little anxious for being late.

Marianne crawls from under her bed empty handed and tries to trace back in her memories where her phone could be. She remembers waking up and checking her phone, but it is not on, under or around her bed. She remembers that she got up to shower, but not before going onto her balcony and smoking a cigarette.

Marianne’s feet move quickly through the wooden door, “I found it!” She checks her phone to many messages from Vincent. He’s asking her if she’s available to come over tonight.

Héloïse smiles at the brunette as she approaches her with her head down looking at the phone. She doesn’t question the furrowed brow that Marianne is wearing. “Okay, are you ready now?”

Marianne isn’t listening, but nods towards the sounds she heard. Her eyes are so focused on the phone that she bumps into Héloïse. She looks up and is captured by the intensity of those blue eyes. She can see the electric current running through them. Marianne has always found Héloïse to be electrifying. Like a shock of lighting, restarting Marianne’s heart. She can hear her heart breaking.

* * *

The studio is a comfortable silence, white noise of the AC running is present. They arrived to the building at 2:40. Marianne unsure why Héloïse was in such a hurry. Now, all of the studio slights are on Héloïse. Her blonde hair is tied up with messy curls falling out the back from the messy bun. It is a very warm afternoon in Paris, but the studio is slighter cooler due to the blackout blinds always being closed. The green suit is back on and Marianne can’t help but find her irresistible.

There has been a tension in studio air once they have arrived. Marianne tells Héloïse that this will be their last session for the portrait. Héloïse is silent at first and Marianne can’t help but feel worried. Héloïse knows their time together is dwindling down, like the sunset, but never to rise again. Like the world would be empty without the sun, Héloïse’s world would be empty without Marianne’s.

Marianne has been distracted this entire session. Her text message from Vincent put her in an uneasy mood because every single time he states a text like that, she knows something is wrong. She hasn’t spoken to him much this week and was worried something has happened. He said he wouldn’t tell her over text and for her to come over whenever she can tonight.

“Be serious.” Marianne huffs looking at a bright Héloïse with teeth showing, anything to slow down the process. To anyone else, they would assume that the smile is genuine, but Marianne knows its fake.

Héloïse’s fake smile drops and is replaced with a more familiar one. “Why? You don’t like my smile?”

“Not that one.” Marianne takes one last look before bringing her attention back to the canvas. It is almost completed. Only needing to do minor touch ups and quality control, to ensure that the colours are blended well. She looks back at Héloïse a couple of minutes later. “Your parents told me they are coming to Paris this weekend,” Marianne says making eye contact with Héloïse to assess her reaction.

Instantaneously, Héloïse tenses. She knows about their visit, but Marianne knowing gives her an uneasy feeling. “Why did they tell you?” Her voice is tense. The AC has stopped and the studio is completely silent.

“They asked me how to portrait is going,” Marianne answers as she paints on the canvas. She is oblivious of the troubled expression on Héloïse’s face. “I told them that we should be done today. That’s when they told me that they’re visiting this weekend and hoping to see the portrait.”

Héloïse feels an overwhelming sadness blanket herself. The inevitable is coming, sooner than she imagined and she has yet to tell Marianne. She knew her fate was coming, but she decided to ignore it for the brunette in front of her. For now, Héloïse swallows the tightness in her throat and continues to pose.

“You look beautiful today,” Marianne whispers. It’s barely audible to Héloïse. Even though they’ve been intimate multiple times, butterflies still fly free in her stomach.

Héloïse turns visibly pink at the cheeks as she breaks her pose to hide her smile. “Stop that,” She says back with a hint of happiness in her voice. She has forgotten about the blanket of sadness from earlier.

Marianne connects eyes with her from behind the painting. “I was talking about the portrait,” she jokes pointing at the canvas.

Héloïse mouth forms a pout at the comment. She knows that Marianne is joking, but she can’t help but feel embarrassed anyway. “Well, the portrait is of me. So, I’ll take that as a compliment.” Héloïse continues to break the pose as she crosses her arms and uncrosses her legs.

“You pout when you’re embarrassed. It’s cute,” Marianne says changing the topic. Her brows are furrowed as she tries to mix the colour just right.

“And your brows furrow when you’re focused,” Héloïse rebuttals.

Marianne tears her eyes away from the paint palette in her hand. Héloïse is challenging her. “You rub your temples when you’re upset.”

“You run your hand through their hair when things aren’t going your way,” there is a playful smirk planted on Héloïse’s lips. Marianne can’t help but melt from her smirk. “You might be the artist who stares at me all the time, but I’m looking right back at you.”

Marianne is staring at Héloïse in awe. No one has ever been this observant with her before. There’s a sadness now resting in her heart. Héloïse may not be perfect, but she is perfect for her. “Venez ici.”

Héloïse uncrosses her arms and raises from the wooden chair. She has been sitting there for an hour and was thankful to be relieved from it. She didn’t want to ask for a break because she didn’t want her view of Marianne behind the canvas to vanish. Marianne has stated that this will be their last session today. She slowly makes her way to Marianne who is staring intently at the canvas.

She’s still mixing colours and decides where to put the new shade of green. Héloïse arrives in front of the painting, barely glimpsing at it. More focused on watching Marianne in deep thought.

“How do you know when it’s done?” Héloïse asks looking at the face of focus.

Marianne brings the brush to the portrait and makes one stroke with the green. “You just have to know when to stop.” Another stroke. “There. It’s done.” Marianne pulls away to put her brush and paint palette down on the little wooden table beside her.

Once Marianne has moved away, Héloïse can finally get a good look at it and realizes this is the first time she has seen it. She leans in, bending her back at a right degree angle to get closer. It is truly beautiful, like a portrait that deserves to hang in Le Louvre. Marianne was able to capture all the fine details of Héloïse and transfer it onto a piece of fabric with some oil paints. Héloïse is in awe at the colour choices and blending that Marianne had used. The proportions are correct as well.

The detail that caught Héloïse’s attention is the intensity of her facial features. Her eyes look as if they are on fire, full of anger to the naked eye. Though, Héloïse looks closer, the flames of anger vanish into a roaring fire of passion. It takes true talent to be able to capture those emotions with paints. She can feel Marianne standing behind her, also assessing her work. One detail that is very wrong is Héloïse’s lips. She wears no lipstick for these sessions, but in this portrait, they are painted red. She doesn’t ask why.

Héloïse is so deep in thought examining the painting that she fails to notice Marianne checking her phone. Before the blonde could notice, Marianne dismisses her phone into her pocket. Ignoring the thing like it’s the plague. She turns to Héloïse, but not before blanking her face from emotion.

“So?” Marianne breaks the silence. Marianne doesn’t usually care about anyone’s opinion on her art. She’s confident enough to know that she produces amazing pieces and if anyone says elsewise, they are usually wrong. Though, she can’t help but worry for Héloïse’s opinion.

Héloïse stands straight, inches away from her face is Marianne’s. She can see that the brunette is eagerly awaiting Héloïse’s opinion. Marianne can’t read the expression on Héloïse’s face.

“Is this how you see me?”

“Yes.” Marianne answers sounding breathless. Did Héloïse not like it?

Héloïse’s expression doesn’t soften from these words. Instead, they grow harder. She can feel her heart start to break and she tries her best from letting tears well up. She knows Marianne loves her now. Those words have never been exchanged between the two, but Héloïse knows for sure with this painting of her. She can feel the love resonate through the effort Marianne has put in to capture the blonde for who she truly is.

“Then, I love it.”

Marianne smiles.

* * *

Once the session is over, Héloïse drives Marianne home. The sun is still hanging high in the sky, giving life to all. The cloudless blue sky contrasts the sun, the endless battle between blue and red, cold and hot. The air is hot and humid, the moisture accumulation in the lungs makes it hard for them to breathe. There is a weird tension in the car. It isn’t the tension that they are both used to, one full of passion, lust, desire and love. Both of them can sense it, but neither knows why. Neither dare to ask.

When the car parks outside of Marianne’s flat, she promptly exits the car. Mumbling a quick good bye to the blonde and that she would call her later. Héloïse is staring at her back. Marianne can feel the hotness of her eyes that laser into her. She doesn’t turn, she just lets them melt her ice-cold walls that have reformed. Marianne can hear tires screeching, eager to get away, before she enters her flat.

When inside, she leans her back on the main door and drops down the ground in exhaustion. She has been thinking about meeting Vincent the entirety of her last session with Héloïse. She’s mad that she couldn’t enjoy the last time Héloïse would be sitting in front of her for a portrait. Now she’s unsure if she’ll ever see Héloïse ever again. But for now, she drags her hollowed bones into her bed, hoping to sleep away the pain.

* * *

Marianne hasn’t been on her new bike since driving it briefly for 5 minutes home from the dealership. Even then, Héloïse was holding onto her tightly behind her. She isn’t nervous about her driving skills or another crash. She is nervous for the influx of emotions that caused the accident. Everything has been so blissful since then. Héloïse wasn’t used as a distraction, instead Marianne feels sheltered by her. Her comfort was never fleeting around Héloïse.

For now, she chokes back all that she feels as she drives towards the now foreign house. The sun is taking sweet time settling down into its slumber. The skies were purple tonight, an odd mixture of blue and red undertones was evident to her. Marianne always found summer pleasant as the sky is never without a permanent orange haze. She was always fascinated by the various colours blending in the sky. Much of her colour knowledge comes from the sun and sky. The humidity has dried since the afternoon spent with Héloïse. The moisture now has turned the air cool.

Marianne and Vincent have barely spoken since the night where she was in Héloïse’s house who tended her wounds. Marianne hasn’t found it in her heart to forgive her brother for the mention of her mouth. Some may find her to be childish and stubborn, but losing the one person you love most and blaming on yourself is more pain than a person should endure in any life time. Having a reminder of that, alongside her unknown emotions for Héloïse was very overwhelming. This all results in her distancing herself, something she knows all too well.

Soon, she’s sitting on the familiar porch with her brother beside her. They’re both smoking a cigarette. Marianne doesn’t ask if he smokes now. She’s anxiously waiting for him to bring up the topic he wants to talk about.

“How have you been?” He asks, exhaling a cloud of smoke. He’s eyeing her motorcycle.

Marianne’s eyes are glued to the ground. “I’ve been fine. You?”

“Been better,” is all he responds with. There’s a silence now. The sun is almost tucked into bed as orange hues barely present in the sky. Instead, now blanketed with a dark purple graced by a full moon. After a moment, he points at her bike with the hand he has his cigarette in and asks about the new bike.

Marianne tries to act nonchalant about it. “I wanted a new one,” Marianne shrugs, hoping she is convincing enough.

Vincent nods unconvincingly. “I’ve talked to Héloïse.” Marianne’s stomach drops. Anxiety bubbles in her awaiting for his next words. “I met for lunch on Tuesday. It was nice. I have a date with tomorrow.” He gauges her reaction. He’s not telling her something.

Marianne feels a pang in her chest but ignores it, “That’s good to hear.”

“I’m marrying her in a week Marianne and I'm freaking out.”

She gives him nothing but a blank stare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys enjoyed :)
> 
> p.s. the playlist link for whoever asked   
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0eeCpB4vgKBqsT7dpxV2HW?si=Lwy7WULLQeei5IRF1whbGA


	14. Chapter 14

After Vincent dropped the news, Marianne quickly left, unable to manage her emotions. She didn’t give him time explain, making a poor excuse saying that she had an early appointment tomorrow and still needed to prepare. He tries to stop her, but there is no force that can stop a fleeing Marianne. Now, she has escaped into the darkness once again, all alone and full of emotions. Her heart hasn’t felt this heavy since her mother died. She feels like she’s drowning in a sea of sadness.

She doesn’t understand what angle Héloïse is playing at. Every possible scenario leaves her with the same conclusion; Héloïse used her. Maybe to get closer to Vincent? Or to fill some type of void she is missing. There just doesn’t seem to be a logical explanation of the events that has occurred. Maybe Héloïse lives up to her nickname, as someone who sets flames to everything around her.

Marianne feels stupid. She feels hurt and used. She promised herself that she would not let anyone else in. She trusted Héloïse had good intentions, but everyone is always a disappointment. She knows being alone means being free, but Héloïse made her go back on her ideals. She always felt Héloïse’s absence, like a piece of her is missing. Maybe Marianne fell too hard for someone who she made up in her head.

Marianne doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t know if she can handle hearing Héloïse tell her that she doesn’t love her back, but she also wants answers. She wants to undercover the mystery of who Héloïse is. So, she does. Marianne starts towards Héloïse’s house.

As she’s driving towards the outskirts of Paris, the summer night sky quickly begins to become darker. Grey clouds fill the previously empty sky. Thunder roars through the sky. Marianne finds this odd as there was no thunderstorm in the forecast today when she checked. Driving in wet conditions so soon after the accident is making her anxious. She had made sure to triple check before leaving. She decides to speed up, hopefully will arrive before the upcoming downpour.

* * *

Marianne approaches the grand metal gate. The only barrier keeping her from Héloïse. She has shown up unannounced, her impulsive decision and racing thoughts failed to message Héloïse. Even though it’s very warm outside, Marianne had decided to wear her new padded leather jacket as a safety precaution. She’s sweating profusely under it. She unzips the jacket to allow air flow and to reach for her phone. Her phone is very warm and a little bit sweaty from being trapped inside the leather.

She dials Héloïse’s number and waits nervously. It’s a little past 11pm, so hopefully it’s too early for Héloïse to be asleep. After three rings, she hears the angelic voice on the other line. “Marianne? Are you okay?” There’s worry in her voice. Marianne forces back a tear.

“Yes, I am outside. Can you let me in?” Marianne asks, her voice breaks.

The night is silent. No more thunder and no more clouds. The orchestra of bugs seemingly have wrapped up their performance early. The moon is also hiding, idling in the night sky somewhere. This was a completely different feeling from when she visited this mansion for the first time. It was a lot livelier. Now, it feels as give she’s entering a graveyard, looking for the headstone of their relationship. She is painstakingly aware of what’s going to happen tonight.

The large metal gate buzzes and slides open. Her emotional demise awaits her as she proceeds towards the house. This time Héloïse isn’t standing the top of the steps, or helping her up them. Marianne finds this odd, but parks her bike in the same spot as the first time. When she’s at the top of the stairs, staring at the great wooden doors in front of her, she freezes. She’s still unsure about what she wants. The darkness leaves her ears rings. She just wishes things were different.

This visit mirrors the first one in many aspects, but lack the important details. She remembers the excitement she felt the first time, now replaced with monotonous emotions. She remembers the moon being out in the sky, but now it has gone into hiding. Marianne remembers Héloïse standing on top of the stone stairs, finding her exquisite and princess-like. She was greeted in a warming way. Now, there as a lack of Héloïse at the top of the stairs. There is no warm greeting, she only meets the loneliness of the night.

As she approaches the door, she sees it is left open slightly for Marianne. With a deep breath, she enters the house, closing the door behind her. She’s met with a familiar darkness. She doesn’t hear a single sound as she takes off her boots. Even without instruction, she knows the meet Héloïse in her bedroom. As Marianne’s light steps proceed towards the large staircase, she is met by Sophie who went to the kitchen for a glass of water. She assumes that it was Sophie who opened the gate and the door for her.

“Hi Marianne! How are you?” Marianne wonders how Sophie is always so happy. It makes her kind of jealous.

Marianne gives her a small smile, “I’m doing all right. How about you?”

“I’ve been better. Héloïse is up in her room.” Sophie answers back quietly, as if she doesn’t want Héloïse to hear. “Please be patient and hear her out.” With that, Sophie starts walking up the stairs.

Marianne stays at the bottom, looking up at the large cathedral like chandelier hanging above the top of the stairs. She tries to calm her influx of emotions. She hopes that Héloïse is not in a bad mood due to her. Her heart starts to race as she takes the first step up the hardwood stairs. She grimaces at the loud creaking sounds as takes another step upwards. She wants to be silent as possible, as if any loud noises will scare Héloïse away.

Once up the stairs, she turns left, towards Héloïse’s door. She tries to make her steps as light as possible, hoping not to disturb Sophie in one of the many rooms she passes. She wonders if these rooms were ever filled. Héloïse has mentioned that her family used to live here before her father decided to move the location of his publication company. Marianne wonders which rooms were inhabited by her family members. There are definitely more rooms than the family of four needed. She wonders what their family was like on Christmas.

For now, she makes her way towards the room with the door slightly cracked and a light flickering within in. She gives herself one more encouraging deep breath before pushing the door open. She is greeted by a familiar warmth from the fire in the wall on her left. The first thing she notices is Héloïse, directly in front of her, sitting on her windowsill reading a book that she can’t see. She looks peaceful and focused. Her hair slightly falls in front of her face out of the loose ponytail.

When Héloïse registers the door creaking open, she lifts her head from the book. There’s no softness in the blonde’s expression when she sees Marianne, her walls are up again. The Héloïse that Marianne first met is back. The stern expression sits comfortably on her face, but there is no hint of anger in her eyes. Instead, there is an emotion present that Marianne knows all too well. Sadness.

Marianne gives her a smile, hoping to wash away some of the sadness. She slowly walks towards Héloïse as if trying not to startle her. The blonde just looks at her with intense unhappiness. Marianne stops before Héloïse, giving her the choice of making the move. Héloïse accepts by leaning her head into Marianne, who wraps her arms around her. They stand like this for what feels like eternity. Marianne doesn’t mind.

“I can’t lose you,” Héloïse whispers into Marianne. Héloïse moves her arms to wrap them around the brunette. She holds her tight. Marianne feels her heart break. Héloïse knows what’s about to happen, before Marianne even does. Marianne doesn’t want to say anything. She’s scared that if she opens her mouth, she would become a sobbing mess.

So, she stays silent and holds her.

The crickets are starting their orchestra, a sign of rain. The insects sense it. The world around them starts to shift. The unexpected rain begins to fall. The wind blows branches of century old trees into the window. The lightning starts, giving their song a sense of livelihood. A summer storm approaches.

After a moment, Marianne decides to speak, only after gaining her confidence. “Héloïse, what about Vincent?” Her voice cracks. She’s trying so hard not to cry. The overwhelming tightness in her chest is making it hard not to.

Marianne feels Héloïse let go of her, prompting her to do the same. Their eyes meet for the first time tonight and Marianne falls for them all over again. Every ounce of sadness seems to dissipate when she looks into those oceanic blue eyes. As if Héloïse is taking her sorrow away. She wishes she can do the same for the blonde. Héloïse breaks the contact and gestures for Marianne to sit beside her on the windowsill.

Once seated, Héloïse begins. “My family has standard traditions that have been going on for too many generations. My parents are to find me a husband that matches what they think would be good for me. Intelligent, good looking, caring and what not. It doesn’t matter to them whether I have feelings or not, it’s just how it’s done in my family. Something about maintaining image. Especially since I’m taking over my father’s publication company.”

She takes a pause. Marianne can tell she’s struggling to tell her this, just as much as she’s struggling to hear it. Héloïse’s eyes are glued out the window, watching nature’s orchestra. Her eyes are not focused on anything, a blanket of guilt covers over.

“Your family and mine have known each other for many generations. Without my knowledge, my parents contacted your father. This was before my sister died. They had a whole agreement. Of course, when she died, her fate was passed onto me.”

Marianne tenses at the mention of her father. She’s also shocked to hear that Vincent was supposed to marry Roselyn.

“Marianne, they agreed that Vincent is now to be my husband and we’re moving to Milan.” There’s such a desperation in her voice. Héloïse prays every day that her fate will suddenly change.

Marianne’s mouth goes dry. Her brother and Héloïse are leaving her.

855 kilometres away.

There is overwhelming sadness in her chest.

“How long have you known?” Marianne asks, a hint of resentment in her voice.

“Since I met you. Marianne, I tried so hard not to get close to you.” Marianne remembers all the cold stares, the angry eyes and the lips that never smiled.

Marianne’s vision starts to blur in a fury of anger and tears well up in her eyes. Marianne doesn’t break her eye contact with the blonde, who refuses to make eye contact with her, continuing to zone out the window. The crackling of the wood burning fills the room. Marianne has forgotten how to function. Her heart hurts so much. Everyone knew this entire time, but no one thought it would smart to inform her.

Héloïse breaks her attention from the vast nothingness outside and attaches her watery eyes on Marianne. “We’re supposed to get married at the beginning of the next month, after he graduates. Then we leave the day after to Milan.”

Marianne’s eyes stay on Héloïse. She’s holding back all her grief of the situation. Marianne doesn’t know what to say. Still as a statue. Water in her lungs. All of this is so bizarre, but everything starts to make sense. The random dates, the mention of Héloïse in every conversation that comes up with Vincent and the guilt in his eyes. She had a sense that Vincent was not telling her everything. He’s leaving her.

Somehow, Marianne finds it in her to muster, “Do you love him?”

“No.” Relief, but it’s not enough to put out the burning inside of her. Vincent is going to marry Héloïse. In one week. 7 days. “This is my fate, Marianne. I can’t break tradition. It would ruin my family. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I couldn’t. I wanted to hold onto what we have for as long as I could. I know it’s selfish. My sole fault is loving you.”

Héloïse loves Marianne. It is obvious, but this is the first time she hears those words escape those pink lips. Tears begin to fall from Marianne’s face. This is her fate. Destined to be without her one true love, losing her to another. Her luck that her fate is decided by Héloïse. Marianne lets out a long breath that she has been holding. She knows to run, but she can’t. Héloïse has her trapped in a cage.

Being loved by Héloïse is not a fleeting feeling. Most feelings vanish quickly to Marianne, but not Héloïse. Their connection is too real. She is a part of her now. A missing piece within her is filled. Without Héloïse, Marianne would still be doing what she was before. Drifting through life. Zero gravity. Not a care about anyone or anything. But now, she has someone to care for. Marianne has changed, for the better, for Héloïse.

“Please don’t find me docile. Please find it in you to forgive me. I was not trying to be collusive. I just didn’t know how to tell you. I meant to tell you at the beginning, but I just couldn’t. I felt so much for you Marianne, I still do. I’m powerless.” The last words leave as a sob.

Marianne nods. She can never feel bitterness towards the blonde.

Marianne speaks up, “I feel something new. Regret.” Her voice raw with emotion.

“Don’t regret. Remember.” Héloïse says with a broken smile. She’ll never forget of their moments together.

Both of them are in tears now, choking back their sobs, trying to make sense of their fate. Héloïse leans into her person, unable to control her breath. Their foreheads are together, both their eyes are closed, but floods of tears fall down each other’s faces. Héloïse’s hand is behind Marianne’s neck, holding onto every last piece she can. Their breath is hot on one another. Hot burning passion not replaced by cold resentful circumstances. Neither know what to do.

Marianne doesn’t ask her to fight back. She doesn’t make the lover’s choice, but the poets. She doesn’t ask Héloïse to choose her. She doesn’t ask for Héloïse to run away with her. She doesn’t ask Héloïse for anything. She doesn’t ask her to make the lover’s choice.

All this time spent worrying about Vincent’s feelings, but in the end, Marianne is the one who loses.

Her chest is caving in.

Suddenly, a pair of lips plant themselves into Marianne’s. The kiss is hot, dejected, and tender. One last touch for the pair of lovers. Héloïse pulls away from Marianne, uprooting herself from the brunette. They are no longer lovers.

Marianne won’t get her opportunity to take Héloïse on dates. She won’t get another chance to kiss her. To make love with her. Marianne won’t get feel her authentic self with Héloïse again. She won’t get to experience life with Héloïse. She won’t get to sleep in the same bed. She won’t get to marry her. She won’t get to have children with her. Or grow old together.

Marianne has put everything into Héloïse. Now, she has nothing. An empty shell once gain.

Another great loss in her life, to the hands of her father.

Seven days until Héloïse belongs to another.


	15. Chapter 15

Thursday – 6 days until wedding.

The rain hasn’t stopped when Marianne wakes the next morning. The room is flooded by the noise of rain hitting the window. The sun is nowhere to be seen, covered by dark grey clouds. It was oddly comforting, despite the circumstance she was in the night prior, she feels content. She’s in a familiar bed that is not hers with a woman, who is also not hers. They’re both clothed.

Marianne watches Héloïse as she sleeps. The blonde is facing her, her hands are clenched into fists and rest near her face. She seems very at peace compared to yesterday. Yesterday night was exhausting for both of them. They cried and cried some more, until they were drained of every emotion and ounce of energy they had. Marianne had planned on leaving, but the storm was worsening by the minute. Héloïse begged her to stay the night, so she did.

Now they are both in bed together, once again. Marianne can’t help but feel sad and betrayed. She wants to so desperately tell Héloïse to choose her, but she can’t. She fears of any rejection that might come. She decides to remain quiet, hoping that making this choice will make the pain go away. It’s better to be friends than completely lose Héloïse. Or at least Marianne thinks so.

Marianne turns over to check her phone and sees that it’s only a little past 7am. She has a miss call from Vincent from yesterday night. She decides to call him back so he doesn’t panic and think she’s dead. She knows that Héloïse usually gets up at 8 to prepare for work. So, she quietly leaves the bedroom, hoping not to wake her. Not before sneaking one longing look at sleeping beauty.

She quietly skips through the dark kitchen and exits the back-sliding glass doors. She is now in the glass sun room. The rain hitting the glass is loud, but she takes a seat in one of the outdoor chairs. She holds her phone in her lap for a second, mustering up the confidence to call.

It rings twice, “Hey M. You didn’t text me when you got home.” His voice is genuinely worried.

She runs her hand through her hair. She wishes she had a cigarette right now. “Yeah sorry, I got caught up in something.”

“That’s all right. Dad called me and told me to tell you that we’re having dinner with the Leclairs on Saturday. He expects you there.” Marianne doesn’t like his tone. Victor should’ve called her himself.

She also hates the idea of sitting with her family who basically took the love of her life. She sighs into the phone. She doesn’t want to go, but she knows she has to. “What time?” She unwillingly mumbles into the phone.

“I think around 7. I’m also throwing a graduation party for the boys and I on Friday. Please come. I think we’re going to go clubbing.”

Getting drunk doesn’t seem half bad. It’ll distract her from everything that is happening. “I’ll be there. I got to go Vinny. I’ll talk to you later.” With that she hangs up.

Marianne huffs a breath of frustration out. Every day just keeps getting more and more unbearable. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to sit through dinner. She grimaces at the thought of hearing about wedding details. Or the thought of having to sit across from the blue eyes and feeling like she’s lost at sea, never to be rescued. With a last deep breath, she gets up from the cushioned seat and makes her way back up the stairs to Héloïse’s room.

When she opens the door, she is met with surprised eyes. She sees Héloïse exhale a visible worry. Her eyes soften when she sees the brunette. “I thought you left,” Marianne can hear the freight in her voice.

Marianne gives her a warm reassuring smile. “I’d never leave you.” She climbs back into bed with Héloïse. This breaks Héloïse’s heart.

They’re facing each other, eyes on one another. The space between them is minimal, but both are too scared to reach out. Too scared that they will fade away with a touch. For now, they stay still. Basking in each other through their eyes. Marianne feels her heart flutter every single time her eyes connect with Héloïse. Such a raw passion exists between them. Marianne is desperate to reach out and touch Héloïse, to remind her that love does exist.

The desire to feel Héloïse overcomes Marianne. She raises a hand and delicately places it on her face. The action is so tender, full of love. Héloïse closes her eyes and relaxes under Marianne’s touch. Marianne moves her hand towards Héloïse’s golden hair. Her fingers delicately intertwine with the messy strands. She sees Héloïse relax further. When Héloïse eyes reopen, Marianne sees a tsunami of emotions within them.

“Do all lovers feel like they’re inventing something?” Héloïse whispers. The storm outside picks up. “I know the gestures. I imagined it all, waiting for you.”

Marianne processes what she said. Love. It is a feeling she so rarely knows. “You dreamt of me?”

“No. I thought of you.”

Marianne feels a flood of emotions. Her heart goes through the process of breaking all over again. The rush of emotion causes Marianne to close her eyes to stop the incoming downpour of tears. A deep breath to calm her emotions doesn’t do the trick as her tears seep out. She doesn’t open her eyes or run away. She allows herself to feel the entire process. It feels all too familiar.

She feels a soft hand on her face, the same place where she has put hers on Héloïse. The connection is so comfortable and so evocative of happy memories of them. A thumb lightly brushes her supple skin. Her eyes have a pink tint to them when Marianne reopens them. Marianne wants Héloïse in the morning, she wants her when the sun is high in the sky and she wants her when it is dark outside. She wants her every second of the day.

Each of them has let the other into places no one ever has gone. Embedded under each other’s skins. Both knowing of the demons that haunt the other. Kissing Héloïse at this moment would make this intolerable.

She doesn’t lean in.

* * *

Thursday drags on, The hours spent together was limited. Too little to be satisfied, too many that serve as a reminder of what they can’t be. Together. The sky had stopped weeping as they both stayed in bed, unable to shed anymore tears onto the earth. The sky doesn’t clear. It remains dark and depressed. Happiness isn’t an emotion that is present. Happiness seems like a myth now.

While they were in bed, Héloïse tells Marianne about the tragic Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. A couple so in love, met with ill fate. Marianne sees herself as Orpheus, losing her love Héloïse too early, an overpowering need to get her back. As the story goes on, Marianne imagines herself, at the feet of Hades and Persephone, convincing them to allow Marianne to reunite with her love. She imagines that she could walk the entire length without turning to see if Héloïse was behind her.

If only life was a myth. She would have Héloïse all to herself.

But now, she’s all alone in her studio. She stands in her natural spot, behind the canvas and stares straight towards the empty chair. Her memory floods her of images of Héloïse. Héloïse smiling, Héloïse talking, Héloïse posing. All of the photos captured replay in a movie. Her eyes draw back to the completed portrait. Her eyes meet the ones she painted.

It is as if Héloïse is actually there.

She continues to clean her studio. Ridding of paint stains on the hardwood floors. Removing the setup of which Héloïse once sat. Essentially trying to rid of all memories of the blonde in her studio. She puts the paints she used away. Once everything is somewhat organized, she moves onto the final steps of completing the portrait.

She places the portrait onto her large table at the side of her studio with many completed works that have yet to be picked up. She places down the portrait and reaches underneath to grab some varnish. She uses a large, soft-hair brush to apply the varnish on for more control. As she applies the liquid, the painting comes to life. The colours brighten, each brushstroke more evident than the last. Her work is very methodical, only precise brushstrokes where needed to give the painting dimension.

Once the varnish is applied, she picks it up only by the edges and moves it to a hook on the white-brick wall. The natural light from the windows shine onto the painting. It is lively. The colours are bright. She takes a step back to admire her work.

She believes that it is her best work yet.

* * *

Thursday night, 8pm to be exact and she’s alone in her flat. Marianne’s residing in her bed trying to find anything to distract her from the thought of Vincent with Héloïse. She finds herself too distracted to watch anything. Too heartbroken to draw and music doesn’t sound as good as it used to. There has been no contact between her and Héloïse since they both left the comfort of Héloïse’s bedroom. 

Marianne’s sitting up on her bed, her back on the headboard and smoking on a cigarette. She has her sketchpad in her lap, but her eyes are focused on the blank wall in front of her. Marianne is trying to process her feelings. She knows that she loves her. Héloïse knows it too. Even though the words have never been spoken clearly, they both know that this is love. True authentic love. One where they love you for all your faults.

She can’t help but ponder why the Leclair family’s traditions have gone on for so long. She assumes Héloïse’s mother, Yvette was also married off. She can’t fathom why Vincent would willingly do this. He does love Héloïse. Who wouldn’t? Maybe he just got All these questions and scenarios run through her head, but she doesn’t hand on one definitive answer.

The only thing she knows is that she loves Héloïse.

Though, being the person that Marianne is. She needs answers. The only person that has them is her father. So, in a haste, she grabs her phone and dials his number.

After a few rings, he picks up. “Marianne?” There’s surprise in his voice. She never calls him.

“Hey dad.” Her lower lip is trapped between her teeth. She doesn’t know how to bring it up.

“How are you?” He asks. She can hear him moving around.

“Oh, you know, I’ve been better.” _You can do this._ “Vincent told me about the deal with the Leclairs. When were you going to tell me?” She lies.

“I didn’t think it concerns you,” Victor says. It comes out harsh, but she thinks that it was intended to be so. “Vincent must’ve also told you that it was his idea?”

Well, that’s a surprise. Marianne didn’t really expect that answer. She can’t wrap her head around why. She finishes her cigarette. “He left that detail out. Did he tell you why?”

“No. He left that part out.” Victor answers. “What’s with the sudden curiosity?”

“Nothing. I got to go. Bye,” with that she hangs up. She doesn't let him answer.

That call gave her no answers, just more questions. She fiddles around lighting another cigarette until she gets a message from Vincent asking if they could talk. She doesn’t care anymore. She sends him back a text saying that he could come over whenever. She tosses her phone to the side and sighs after hitting send. She’s starting to come to terms that she has no control.

She opens her laptop that is on her bed beside her. She goes to her Spotify and turns on the playlist that she made about Héloïse. The shuffling chooses a Valentine song first, Pink & Blue. The slow melody fills her room, the beat echoes through the air. She gives herself a moment to embrace the music.

 _Eyes so blue caught me swerving_. She puts the cigarette between her lips and picks up her pencil. She starts to draw.

* * *

It’s now 10pm and she hears a knock at her door. She had moved from her bed onto the ground, beside the opened balcony door. She had numerous amounts of acrylic paints around her, messily placed onto a very used wooden paint palette. She had started to roughly paint the sketch she did, which she later wants to transfer onto canvas and use oil paints. She pushes everything roughly to the floor to stand. She makes her way through the flat, her feet tapping with the beat of the song playing from her laptop.

She opens her door to see Vincent. He stands taller than her, wearing a posh grey sweater with his nicer blue jeans. He enters the flat without an invitation with his hands in his hair. He’s wide-eyed and takes a seat on one of her barstools that sat close to her bed, facing inwards towards the kitchen. There is a hole in the wall which connects the open bedroom space with the kitchen, excluding the need for a dining room table.

He sits there, head in hand. “Marianne, I’m so sorry.”

_What is he apologizing for?_

“Héloïse told me everything.”

It turns out that Héloïse didn’t tell Vincent everything. He explained his side. How he thought it would be a good idea for him; it would provide financial stability and a hot wife. Marianne understands why he would seek that. It doesn’t hurt any less. Their father is not keen on helping him with school or any of his living expenses. Paying it off his own has left him in a great deal of debt. It isn’t his fault that Marianne fell for the same girl. She sucks it up and listens to him like an older sister should.

“She loves someone else Marianne. She wouldn’t say who,” His voice was quiet, barely audible over the soft music playing from her laptop.

Marianne’s silent.

“She said that she’s only doing this for her parents. She said she has no romantic feelings towards me. I’m supposed to marry her on Wednesday for fucks sake. I thought she loved me back.” Marianne hears the hurt in his voice, but she doesn’t find it in her to feel bad for him.

He’s so naïve.

Marianne’s shocked, more at the fact that Héloïse told Vincent about another lover. She has come to terms with the situation, no longer evoking tears, just anguish. She doesn’t care to change something that is unmovable.

He continued, “So now I feel like the bad guy. I feel like I’m trapping her into a life that she doesn’t want, but I need this. I don’t know what to do.”

Marianne doesn’t know either.


	16. Chapter 16

Friday – 5 days until wedding.

Marianne wakes at noon, the next morning to the sun greeting her through the balcony door. The birds are chirping, the streets are loud and everything is just lively. Except for Marianne. It’s now Friday and Vincent graduates in several hours. The days are starting to become more mundane as the depression settles in. Marianne finds it hard to get out of bed, barely having any motivation to live. She knows happiness shouldn’t rely on another person, but how can she be if her sun was taken away. Only dark clouds overshadow her. 

She feels a huge weight on her body making her unable to move. She feels like a dead body, waiting to rot. The news has finally settled in. The shock and adrenaline have worn off. Now she’s left to feel every ounce of loss. She wishes that she had died that night in the accident, not having experience the pleasure of being with Héloïse. Those very few days gave her more contentment than the past two years have combined.

Some days aren’t this bad, but today is especially bad.

She’s feels no hard feelings towards Héloïse for not telling her. She understands. Marianne knows that she would do the same, just to prolong the desirable feeling that each other gave. Everything around her reminds her of Héloïse. Not one moment goes by that Héloïse isn’t on her mind. It’s starting to become exhausting.

Marianne turns over to find her phone. Victor has given Marianne the day off to prepare for her brother’s graduation, which she is thankful for. She probably wouldn’t be able to teach anything right now. She sees that there’s a missed call from Héloïse from earlier this morning. Her heart starts to race as she stares at the name on her screen. She knows that the wiser choice is to not call back.

She doesn’t call back.

Instead, she deletes the notification and proceeds to check her emails. All of them are inquiries about getting commissioned work from her. Recently, more and more people have been contacting her about getting various paintings done. She types up quick replies saying that she would get back to them as soon as possible, but in the meantime to send more details. Once business side is completed, it’s approaching 1pm.

With all the effort she can muster up, she climbs out of bed and treads towards the shower. The hot water hitting her relieved some weight off her hung shoulders, but the downward force is overpowering. She hangs her head; the hot water splashes off the brunette head. The tears somehow seep through her walls and well up at her eyes.

She breaks down all over again. It’s a part of her routine now. After a few minutes, she calms. The weight has subsided and she exits the shower. She didn’t have to start getting ready until 5pm, so she has at least four hours until she’d have to be home. She decides she wants to start a new piece. A distraction would be helpful getting over the pain in her chest.

* * *

The studio is peaceful alone. The varnish of Héloïse’s portrait has dried and she spent some time mounting it onto the frame that was provided by Héloïse’s parents. Once it was in the frame, the painting is complete. She hangs it back up on hook on the wall and takes a step back.

She falls in love with Héloïse all over again.

She takes a photo of her completed work with her professional photography camera. She takes a picture of the full portrait, then goes closer to take pictures up close. First, she takes a picture of the texture of the green blazer. Next, she takes a picture of the intricacies of different shades of gold of Héloïse’s hair. She finally lands on the piercing blue eyes. The zoomed in photo through the lens really display all the fine brushwork. She spent the most time on this area, trying to capture all the emotions that Héloïse displays.

Once done, she put away the camera and decides to start on a new project. She can’t stand but stare at that portrait anymore. Her studio feels empty without Héloïse posing in the middle. All the small talk, all the glances and passion between them has evaporated into vapor, disappearing in the air. Marianne can feel her presence, but it is no longer visible. Her studio will never be the same, but she’s thankful that she tore up the set up before today. The absence can be felt

But now she stands in her familiar spot, in front of a white canvas facing towards the vast emptiness in front of her. She knows what she wants to paint, but doesn’t know where to start. Her hand which holds a pencil hovers over the large blank canvas. Her mind races with the possibilities. She takes a deep breath and her hands drops. She wants to start this, but she doesn’t know if she can.

Depicting a Greek myth onto canvas has been done many times before. It’s common for various artist to put their interpretation into these stories. When Marianne was researching the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, there were many artworks that have been done previously. They illustrate the moment after Eurydice is dragged back into the underworld, leaving a heartbroken Orpheus at the gates of hell. Or artists choose to portray the moment where Orpheus is walking with a silent Eurydice behind him.

None show the moment that the two lovers are reconnected in the afterlife together. Where Orpheus is able to turn back to look at her as often as he likes.

That is the story that Marianne wants to tell.

* * *

Marianne’s back at her apartment after standing in front of a canvas for hours. She is starting to feel a little better since the morning, pouring her heart out in her art. After a couple of hours, she has only finished a rough sketch of her painting. As she was doing it, she realized that she was unable to illustrate the detail in the painting with a smaller canvas, so she settled on making a large painting. All the time that she would’ve spent with Héloïse will now be taken up by the painting. She hopes that immersing herself in art would help her get over her heartbreak.

She’s standing in front of her closet, deciding on what to wear to attend Vincent’s graduation. She knows that it’s a formal event, but she would have to prepare two outfits because they are going straight to his house to party. After a little rummaging through her closet, she settles on wearing a tight black turtle neck with a black blazer over top accompanied by tight black high waisted slacks held up by a black belt with a gold buckle. She leaves her blazer unbutton.

She starts to find clothes for the afterparty. She settles for her signature black jeans but decides to pack a white t-shirt instead of her usual black one. She shoves the clothes into a backpack, with her boots tied to the outside of the bag. She puts other essentials in; a phone charger, her wallet, her smokes. She most likely will spend the night at Vincent’s and she already has all her toiletries there from other nights. It’s been a while since she had stayed over, ever since her first session with Héloïse.

She checks the time to see that it is time to head towards the venue before she is late. Even though she’s always late, showing up to your brother’s graduation late is something she would like to avoid. She checks over her things one last time, making sure she had everything. Before leaving her apartment, she checks herself out in the mirror and with happy results, she’s out the door.

Exiting her apartment building and entering the blistering heat of summer is not Marianne’s favourite. The sun is starting to depart for the night, slowly making its way down the sky, emitting different colours in the sky. She decided on leaving her padded leather jacket at home due to the heat. She puts her new helmet on. The matte black finish is nicer than her last one and the visor seems to darken the surroundings more.

With her backpack on, she starts her motorcycle and heads towards the venue.

* * *

Marianne’s currently leaning against her propped-up bike smoking a cigarette. She’s waiting for her Victor to arrive so she can put her stuff in his car. She’s faced toward the huge venue that is all white with spiral columns in the front to give it a classy look. She’s currently scrolling on her phone, not focused on the many people passing by her. She fails to notice the all too familiar Mercedes-Benz park in the spot behind her.

“Marianne?”

That heavenly voice. She goes light-headed.

Marianne turns around in record time to see Héloïse in front of her, in the flesh. Her 10ft tall concrete walls crumble at the sight of her. She’s surprised to see Héloïse here, but at the same time kind of expected her to be. She’s so awestruck by the beauty of the blonde that she almost fails to realize that Sophie is beside her. She must be here for Benoit.

“Hi.” That’s all that Marianne can let out.

Marianne stares at the blonde for longer. She’s wearing a white button-up shirt that isn’t buttoned all the way and the same grey tailored slacks that she has seen before with a brown belt. She’s also wearing a grey blazer that goes past her waist, making her stunningly hot. Her lips are their signature red. Marianne assumes that Héloïse and Sophie came here straight from work. The smaller brunette is wearing a blue blouse and a black tight skirt. Both of them are in heels making Héloïse is much taller than Sophie.

Sophie excitedly greets Marianne and gives her a big hug. There’s always a positive vibe with Sophie. Héloïse approaches her next and goes for an embrace. They hold each other for a second longer than average, each taking in the comfort they feel. Marianne lets out a deep breath during the embrace when she hears Héloïse whisper, “Vous m’avez manqué.”

Before she can respond, Victor pulls up in the spot next to Héloïse. They quickly break the embrace before he can exit the car. Sophie gives Héloïse a look that Marianne cannot understand. He stands before the girls now, giving Sophie and Héloïse a hug, but does not go in for one with Marianne. She appreciates that he didn’t try and no one questions it.

Not long after, Marianne’s bag and helmet are in the back of Héloïse’s car and all of them enter the venue. Benoit meets them inside a few moments after and they all manage to find seats together near the middle of the very large crowd. It is very loud with the amount of people here, which contributes to the heat. The seating goes: Victor, Benoit, Sophie, Héloïse and then Marianne at the end.

The venue is huge. Surprising since the graduating class for Vincent is fairly small. The inside matches the same white on the exterior. The walls have intricate patterns carved into them with large spotlights that hung from the dark ceiling. The roaring metal fans spin above, but barely helps with the heat. The chairs they sit on are also black uncomfortable fold up chairs. Marianne hopes they won’t be here for too long.

Marianne stays quiet for most of pre-ceremony small talk between Sophie, Benoit Victor and Héloïse. She can’t help but cringe at how cute Benoit and Sophie were together, feeling a little jealous that she can’t be that with Héloïse. She’s silently getting antsy with the blonde beside her. Occasionally, Victor would try to make a joke, getting a genuine laugh from Sophie and Benoit. Héloïse would laugh too, but Marianne knows that it is fake. Though, the laugh sends jolts of electricity through her anyway.

Soon everyone is seated and the ceremony starts. It goes on for what feels like forever – three hours to be exact. Its mind numbing, but definitely better than Vincent’s bachelor’s convocation. Marianne zones out for most of it, ignoring the whispers coming from the company beside her. Once in a while, Marianne would feel a hand on her knee which would make her freeze and get her heart racing. It is a subtle action and hopes no one else notices around them.

She can’t help but feel sad.

* * *

Marianne’s in Vincent’s bedroom getting out of her formal clothes and into her more casual clothing she had packed. It’s lit by the yellow light that hangs from the ceiling. His notes from last time are nowhere to be seen, but his clothes are scattered all over the ground. The house is quiet, only low chatter can be heard from downstairs. She’s immensely proud of her brother for all he has accomplished, even with the struggle of losing their mother. Though, she can’t help but envy him.

When she’s done changing, she heads downstairs to greet the group. It is Arthur and Vincent’s graduation night, which means that a very long and wild night is approaching. They’re all taking shots after shots and are all starting to feel the buzz settling. After one more round, Vincent calls two taxis. He suggests to split up the groups where he’s with Arthur and Héloïse, but Héloïse insists that the boys should be together. Too buzzed to care, they climb into the taxis.

On the ride downtown, Marianne feel her heartbeat in her head. Marianne is sandwiched in the back with Héloïse in between Sophie and her.

“I hope they play good music tonight,” Sophie says in her perky voice.

Before they knew it, they are all inside the club, huddled by the bar. The music is ringing in their ears. The warmth surrounds them from all the people out clubbing on a Friday night. Marianne orders everyone a round of shots. After the liquid is down, they all head towards the dance floor. The multicoloured lights flash above them as they are all in a circle dancing with one another.

Slurred conversations are trying to be had, but fails. Everyone’s flailing around, dance moves are becoming sloppier as the music fades more into the background. The music deafening, a numbing ring in Marianne’s ear. Despite the amount of consumed alcohol, she only feels slightly tipsy. She’s hyperaware at the fact that Héloïse is currently grinding against Sophie as Vincent and Benoit watch cheering. Her body is on fire thinking about Héloïse doing that to her.

She feels a tap on her shoulder, making her turn around. It’s a very attractive brunette. She’s shorter than Marianne. Her light-brown skin is shining from the glitter make-up that was applied. Her smile is bright, her brown eyes show happiness and a hint of desire. Marianne finds her very attractive. Her mouth moves to form words but Marianne is unable to hear her.

She leans her head down so that the brunette’s lips are brushing against her ear. “Want to dance?” She asks. The light brushing of her lips against Marianne’s ear sends a wave of pleasure down her body.

Marianne nods in response, knowing her voice will fade within the noise. The stranger wraps her arms around Marianne’s neck and moves closer. Their bodies are touching as they dance in unison to the beat of the music. Marianne’s hands are on her bare sides and their eyes are on each other’s. Marianne doesn’t feel the same fire she does with Héloïse. Marianne sees the brunette’s eyes switch from her eyes to her lips and back.

Marianne’s intoxication makes her want to lean in. Just before she can, the music ends and changes, prompting the pair to change their dance. This song is faster than the last, their movement comes more rapid. The stranger turns around, her ass pressed against Marianne. She sways to the music, Marianne’s hands travel from her side down to her waist, pulling the brunette closer.

Marianne doesn’t feel Héloïse’s eyes lighting her on fire. Marianne continues to dance against the smaller brunette until she’s taken away. It happens so fast, one second she was dancing against an incredibly attractive woman, the next she is bumping into strangers, being led by her arm. She tries to mumble apologizes but none can be heard. Once out of the large dancing crowd and near the booths, a hand lets go of her arm.

They are tucked away in the back corner of the club. The LED flashing lights don’t travel this far and the music isn’t as loud. There’s barely anyone around, all of them are occupying the dance floor. Her eyes meet blue eyes and she feels overwhelming fire build inside of her. Héloïse eyes are so sharp, so full of emotion. Before Marianne can react, Héloïse’s red lips are attached to hers. Marianne’s hands are cupping Héloïse’s face and Héloïse’s hands are in her hair.

Their kiss is so passionate, filled with eagerness. Marianne pushes Héloïse against a wall and presses herself into the blonde. Her body is on fire being in contact with Héloïse. Héloïse lets out a moan into Marianne’s mouth. Her hands travel the length of Héloïse’s body, trying to memorize everything she can now. Her mind is clouded and her heart is racing.

She should stop, but she doesn’t want to.


	17. Chapter 17

Saturday – 4 days until wedding.

The day starts with Marianne on the couch, her head pounding and mouth dry. It takes a second for her to recollect herself from the haziness in her mind to realize where she is. She had somehow made it back to her brother’s house, but she’s here. She doesn’t remember much from the night before, barely anything at all if she’s being honest. She vaguely remembers dancing with a very attractive stranger, but that’s most of it.

She looks around for her phone, finding it on the carpet floor, almost completely underneath the couch she’s residing on. It’s already 3pm, making Marianne silently curse to herself. She was planning on making good progress on her painting today before she would have to attend dinner with the Leclairs. Now by the time she gets up and heads out, there will be no time to finish her sketch.

With a huff of annoyance, she starts to check her emails and answers them. Since the wedding is on Wednesday, Marianne is being forced not to take any commissioned pieces on that day. Too bad, she was hoping it would go beyond the time of the wedding and she wouldn’t have to go at all. Vincent also asked Marianne to be his best man and she couldn’t say no to her younger brother.

Vincent enters the living room with loud clunky steps coming down from the stairs. She envies his ability to be so lively even after a long night of drinking. “You’re finally awake, thank god.” Vincent greets her with a smile. “I was getting tired of being quiet.”

She finds that to be false as he just entered the lower level of the house in the loudest fashion he could. “Well, I’m assuming we got back really late?”

He nods while entering the kitchen, “I think we got back at four. Benoit decided to stay the night with Sophie.”

She tries to remember the blurry memories of last night. No coherent images form in her mind. Like piecing together a blank puzzle. She sighs and gives up the futile effort, the alcohol has clouded her memory too much. She hopes she didn’t do anything she’ll regret. Not knowing is going to drive her mad. She decides to ask Vincent, “Did I do anything stupid last night?”

He looks up at her while doing the dishes. He ponders this question. “No, not that I remember. You were dancing with that hot chick one second and the next you were gone. We all assumed you went to fuck her or something.”

Marianne’s eyes widen. She really hopes that wasn’t the case. Especially not with Héloïse knowing. Even after everything Héloïse has done, Marianne doesn’t want to hurt her. Foolish, she knows, but she can’t help it. Love makes you stupid. Sometimes Marianne wishes she was a writer, she’d be so much more capable processing her emotions and putting them into words. Instead, she knows them through colours and this feels like violet.

“I literally don’t remember any of that,” Marianne says as she sighs.

Vincent gives her a wholehearted laugh. “Yeah, you were pretty drunk. It was funny.”

They continued to talk, like they did before. Marianne’s letting go of Héloïse.

After their conversation ended, Marianne starts to get ready to leave. He offers her lunch, but she declines wanting to be back in her own space. Minutes pass and she’s out the door into the blazing hot sun. She wishes she was at the beach; the cooling water would feel so nice surround her. Instead, she’s trapped in her helmet that she’s sure will melt her head. Maybe black isn’t the best choice. She forgets this every summer.

When she reaches her place, it is already four. She’s immediately in the shower, feeling the warm cascading water hit her skin. Her mind starts to trail towards memories of last night, trying to picture one cohesive movie. Her eyes close, allowing the movie to start reeling. She remembers taking the last shot at the bar, then the dance floor, seeing Sophie and Héloïse dance on each other. The thought of Héloïse dancing on her like that makes her hot, she makes the water colder.

She remembers the promiscuous chocolate eyes, the glittery tanned skin and those lips. Not one detail ignites a fire in her like Héloïse does. Her mind gives her fragments of them dancing together. Sweaty bodies pressed against each other. The song changes, her hands are on her waist, pulling her close. Then a hand on her arm, pulling her away from the crowd. The emptiness of the back; the darkness shelters only light comes from the blue eyes.

As a flood of hot lava pours over her. Her body is set on fire. Those red lips connected to hers, the roaming hands all over Héloïse. She remembers feeling every curvature, every detail and every inch of exposed soft skin. The cold water evaporates as soon as it touches her. She makes the water colder as she remembers more. Her back against the white tile, she swears she’s burning a hole through it like a flame through paper.

Her hand travels down her stomach until it touches the region that makes her moan. Her hands move in rhyme to the kisses shared last night. She remembers pushing Héloïse against the wall. Her moans match the ones of the blonde last night. She imagines that its Héloïse’s fingers inside her.

Her senses are overwhelmed with everything that is Héloïse.

* * *

It’s now 6:30, dinner is starting at 7pm per Vincent’s words and Marianne is scrambling around trying to get ready. She has lost track of time whilst drawing away on her balcony. Most of the time spent was in the clouds, reminiscing on what it could’ve been. Some of it was spent on paper. She didn’t snap out of her trance until her phone rang.

“Yes, Vincent, it’s in my studio. It’s on the wall. You can’t miss it.” She frankly says these words. Vincent is at her studio to pick up the portrait for Marianne present it at the dinner. She can hear him bustling around, cursing as he runs into something. She yells at him to be careful.

“Why is it so messy in here? I found it, are you almost on your way there?”

She ignores his first question. She’s currently wearing nothing but underwear and still hasn’t washed the paints out of her hands. “Uh yeah, I’ll be there when you get there.”

They exchange good byes. Marianne tosses her phone onto her bed and tries to find appropriate dinner attire. Usually, she would dress in her normal all black rugged attire, but she feels a need to be decent for the Leclairs. The pretentiousness of the family makes her feel that way. Héloïse is such an outlier. She has less than an ounce of pretentiousness in her, only showing when needed.

Marianne settles on some grey slacks she had bought a few years back with a tight white polo shirt. She makes sure to tuck the shirt into her pants. She looks at her belt options hanging on her closet door and decides to settle on a black belt to accompany her look. She tries to clean herself up as much as possible before slipping on her helmet and exiting her flat. The sun is setting and the earth is coming to a still peace. The hues of rays emit a feeling so insipid to Marianne.

The trip to Héloïse’s house is much less enchanting this time. Marianne is hyperaware that their drunken night meant all of nothing. She doesn’t dwell on their actions. It’s purely physical. Their drunk minds just desire physical touch and Héloïse knew she’d be satisfied obtaining it from Marianne. But it does make the beautiful countryside surroundings feel bleak and spiritless. Despite nothing really changing.

She pulls up to the metal gates once again. Every time she does, the circumstances are so different. The gates open on command, as if someone knew that Marianne would arrive late to the dinner. She parks in her usual location and heads towards the grand doors while taking off her helmet. She takes a deep breath, holding her hot helmet to her side before entering through the large wooden doors.

She’s instantly greeted with loud laughter echoing through the once intimate and silent house. This is a completely surreal experience for her. It feels as though she is in a parallel universe. She slowly approaches the dining room where the majority of the noise is coming from. From the door, she sees the grand table full, portrait-less but full. Luckily she isn’t too late from the scarce plates sitting in front of the party. 

At the ends of the table sit the fathers of the respective families. Sébastien is taller and broader compared to Victor, a seamless confidence radiates from him. To Sébastien’s left is Yvette, young and beautiful as ever. You would never guess she’s a day over 45. Next to Yvette is Sophie and Benoit next to her. Odd that he is invited. Then comes Victor at the end, his eyes show disappointment and anger towards Marianne. To his left sits Vincent, then an empty chair and finally Héloïse.

The conversation abruptly ends, all eyes on Marianne as she stands at the door awkwardly holding her helmet. She can see the disapproving looks from her family, confusion from the Leclairs, Sophie gives her a supportive smile and Héloïse looks at her in wonder. The room went from bustling to silent very fast. She can tell that the Leclairs are not impressed by her. There’s a weird tension in the room.

Vincent coughs, trying to dissipate the awkwardness hanging in the air. “Ah yes, Sébastien, Yvette, this is my daughter, Marianne.” He gestures to the couple who have a tight smile on their face.

Marianne offers an equally tight smile back and extends her hand to the uptight couple. “Hello,” she greets them politely, shaking each of their hands firmly. “I’m sorry I’m late. Got caught up in traffic.” Her likely excuse always works. This earns her an approving look from her father when she sits in the empty seat in between Héloïse and Vincent.

Once seated, Marianne offers Héloïse and Vincent an apologetic smile, being accepted gracefully by Héloïse’s small smile, but Vincent doesn’t pay her any mind. Clearly, he’s stressed and in a bad mood. She guesses it’s because this is his first time meeting his future in-laws. A first impression is important to him and she’s sure she fucked that up.

Her attention is drawn towards the deep intimidating voice of Sébastien Leclair. “Marianne, how was the portrait with my lovely daughter? I hope she hasn’t caused you too much trouble.”

Oh, Héloïse is trouble. She has caused Marianne a world of pain, but she’s fine with it. Well, she isn’t but she’ll keep telling herself that she is. Marianne adjusts in the seat, “She was lovely, sir. She caused no trouble.” He gives her a slight smile and tells her to call him Sébastien. “Probably one of my best clients yet.” Marianne sees Héloïse look down at her empty plate, trying to hide her smile.

Sébastien and Yvette both nod at Marianne, pleased with her answer and their daughter. Sébastien draws his conversation away from Marianne thankfully and addresses Vincent next. “So, Vincent, tell me what are your plans once you move to Milan?”

Marianne has almost forgotten that Vincent is marrying Héloïse and they are moving away from Paris. She tenses. A pain in her chest enters again, but she covers up the feeling. Vincent sits up straight, he’s trying not to be intimidated. “I’ve been talking to many professors over in Milan. Some of them have offered me a PhD position, so I’m probably going to do that.”

Yvette and Sébastien look impressed. Her brother has always been the impressive kid. All Marianne does is paint, not that interesting to most parents. Victor decides to chime in to further prove Vincent’s excellence. “He graduated at the top of his class. He always works so hard. Makes me a proud father.”

Vincent smiles brightly and thanks everyone for their praise. The two servers start to funnel through the empty hole in the wall from the kitchen. They have bottles of wine in their hands, pouring the red liquid into the clear glass cups, but Marianne politely declines. There’s light chatter that fills the room, everyone seeming to have their own conversation. Vincent is being interrogated by the Leclairs, but Victor is there to aid him. Sophie and Benoit are off in their own little world. Héloïse remains strangely quiet beside her, not being focused on any conversation in the room.

Marianne turns her attention to the blonde. Her fingers are twiddling with the corner of the napkin on the table. “How are you?” She decides to keep it light, giving Héloïse control of the conversation.

Marianne sees Héloïse relax. Her head turns and those blue eyes show calm waves today. “I was worried you wouldn’t show today.”

Marianne feels a flutter inside her. Héloïse wanted to see her today. She wonders if the blonde remembers their time together in the corner of the club. She shakes the thought out of her head. “Can’t miss meeting my in-laws, can I?”

Marianne instantly regrets the joke, seeing sadness in Héloïse’s eyes as she tenses. Before she’s able to apologize, she’s being addressed to again. It’s Yvette’s calm soothing voice this time. “Marianne, we’re truly excited to see your work on Héloïse after dinner. Vincent tells us that it’s one of your best works yet.”

“Yes, I think so too. It’s easy to produce great art when your muse is as beautiful as Héloïse.”

This earns her confused looks from everyone besides Héloïse who blushes and Sophie who gives her a weird look. There’s an awkward silence in the room now. All eyes are on Marianne as she sits there embarrassed.

Vincent breaks the silence. “My sister has always been really good at art. Even from a young age, we all knew she had some talent.” Marianne smiles at him appreciatively.

Dinner is served a few moments after, a huge relief to Marianne. She couldn’t stand to bare the weird looks from everyone anymore. She couldn’t help but notice the sly smile on Sophie’s lips, as if she knows something. The empty space in front of each individual is replaced by a plate full of hot, freshly prepared food. Marianne wonders if this is how the rich always live.

Dinner is mostly filled with small talk about Milan, Paris, hobbies; most questions are directed towards Vincent. What he’s studying in school, how he feels about moving to another country, and among other useless questions to get to know him better. The room was filled with the sound of clanking cutlery against ceramic plates.

Once everyone was done eating, the group filed into the entertainment room that Marianne knows all too well. She remembers the night of her accident, she remembers Héloïse shirtless, she remembers the feeling of Héloïse pressed against her for the first time. Now, everything is different. There’s a distance between Héloïse and Marianne, a distance so wide that even the titanic would be unable to sail it. Like they are light years away, even though they sit less than inches away from each other.

In the day time, this room is different. Feels less passionate. In front of the large TV sits the portrait covered by a white cloth on a wooden chair. A very dramatic fashion to unveiling artwork to a small crowd. Sébastien asks Marianne to show the piece, prompting her to her feet and walking towards the painting. She’s nervous. Not of what people think about the piece – she already knows it’s amazing – more nervous about this painting being the final piece to their story.

She slowly and carefully pulls the sheet off the painting, unwrapping the painting and all its glory. She drops the cloth to the ground and stands awkwardly beside her masterpiece. No one says anything. All eyes have a mystified look to them, as if they have never seen such detail in art before. She sees many sets of eyes scan the painting more than once. Her eyes are on Héloïse.

Marianne sees a tear fall down her soft cheek.


	18. Chapter 18

Sunday – 3 days until wedding.

The dinner concluded quickly after the painting was revealed. She had earned high praise from everyone. Victor and Vincent weren’t surprised with the quality of her work, but they both agreed that it was her best yet. Benoit admitted he knows nothing about art, but said it was pleasing to the eyes. Marianne agrees, Héloïse is very pleasing to the eyes. Sébastien commented on how his money was spent well. Yvette only said “wow”.

Sophie said that no one has ever been able to capture that side of Héloïse before.

Héloïse looked like she wanted to cry more. So full of emotions, but she only lets one tear fall.

Dinner ended with the two hugging, for a moment too long. They melted into each other. It was too hard to pull away.

It’s Sunday now and Marianne has decided to trap herself in her studio until she can finish this painting. She slightly regrets choosing to make the painting so large, but she reasons with herself that it’s the only way to attain the level of detail she wants. The sketch was finished, she finally managed to get up early and that has paid off.

It’s noon now and she decides to take a break to get lunch. She has been texting Héloïse lately, nonstop. Only in a platonic manner. Their friendship is too valuable to pass up for some silly crush. That’s what Marianne has concluded her feelings towards Héloïse are. A measly crush. Their exchange of “love” was nothing but due to infatuation. Marianne believes that they are just convenient for each other.

That’s why she thought she loved Héloïse. It’s been an exhausting week for her emotions and ignoring it covers the constant aching feeling in her chest. It’s a defense mechanism that hasn’t failed her yet.

Héloïse is currently on her way to the studio with some Chinese food to hang out with Marianne. The weather is nice out as always. The sun is high in the clouded blue sky. The temperature today is scalding hot, every day seems to be raising in temperature, as if the sun is getting closer to Earth. Marianne is outside, sitting on the top step of her studio, smoking her cigarette and basking in the UV rays. She’s wearing blue denim shorts with a white loose t-shirt. Her boots are replaced by black sneakers. Music is playing from her phone, mixing in with the white noise of the streets.

Half way through her cigarette, Héloïse appears from around the corner carrying a brown paper bag. Marianne finds her stunning. Her messy blonde curls fall effortlessly around her shoulders. Her tight black t-shirt hugs her curves so well and her black short shorts just make her legs look so desirable. She can still lust over her friend, right?

“Bonjour,” Héloïse says with a big smile. Marianne’s heart warms. Héloïse radiates happiness.

“Bonjour,” Marianne gives her an equally as big smile back.

Héloïse climbs the stairs and takes a seat beside Marianne, who is still in the process of finishing her cigarette. Héloïse places the food down to her side and leans back with her arms extended behind her. She’s hearing blacked out sunglasses so Marianne cannot see her eyes.

“Nice day.”

 _Nice day._ What a weird way to say it. Though, Marianne nods. “Yes, nice day.” She brings the cigarette to her lips.

Héloïse’s face is turned towards her as her lips wrap around the browned end. Marianne can’t see her eyes, but she knows Héloïse is staring at her lips. She inhales, then exhales. Héloïse doesn’t turn her face as she does. Marianne turns towards her and stares at the dark lens. Her hand still holds the cigarette up.

Slowly, Héloïse’s hand extends towards Marianne’s hand holding the cigarette. She takes it from the brunette’s fingers and brings the tube to her lips. Her lips wrap around it, where Marianne’s lips just were. Inhale. Marianne wants to kiss those lips. Exhale. But she can’t. Such a simple movement turns Marianne on, but she quickly pushes the thought away.

But Héloïse moaning into-

Héloïse breaks her train of thought, “Let’s go eat?”

Marianne nods and follows the blonde into her studio.

Being friends with Héloïse is turning out to be very difficult for Marianne. Partly because she’s so enthralled with her, mostly because Héloïse gets bored very easily. After they ate, Marianne and Héloïse both stand behind the canvas. Marianne’s currently mixing different colours of oil paints on her paint palette while Héloïse examines her sketch. Marianne hopes she likes it.

Héloïse brings her finger to her lips and taps them, examining the sketch deeply. After a moment, her hand drops and says, “I like it.”

Such a minute comment, but it brings a smile to Marianne’s face. She doesn’t respond, instead she starts to apply the deep red colours of hell onto the background. Héloïse is standing beside her, watching the hand that moves the paint brush against the fabric. The noise of the paint on canvas is scratchy and loud, weirdly overshadowing the music still playing in the back.

A minute after, Héloïse releases a sigh and sits in the chair behind her. “This is boring.”

“I’m sorry I bore you.” Marianne stops painting to mix more colours, while addressing Héloïse.

“You don’t bore me.”

“But you’re bored.”

Héloïse releases a huff. “No, watching you paint is boring.”

“I get it. I’m boring.” Marianne releases a soft chuckle with these words. This earns her a light jab to her side, making her body jerk away. “Héloïse!”

“That’s what you get.”

A swipe of red paint on Héloïse’s face happens next. Héloïse’s shocked that Marianne did that. So was Marianne, these paints are incredibly expensive. The red streak across her cheek with a mixture of Héloïse’s shocked expression makes Marianne laugh. She puts down her paint palette and brush on her side table. She hunches over, her hands are on her bent knees. She’s becoming breathless.

Héloïse stays stationary, watching Marianne laugh. When Marianne’s eyes look at her eyes. They are fiery, but not with rage. With passion. In one fluid motion, she raises from her seat and cups her hands around Marianne’s face. They stare at each other.

One moment passes.

Maybe she does love Héloïse.

Two.

No, she doesn’t. She can’t.

The hands then release the brunette’s face and Héloïse’s legs take her to the sink in the back of the room. The running water is heard with a mixture of music. Marianne’s frozen. The action was so bizarre, but all the emotions she kept submerged have come to the surface and float. Love, desire, passion, want. They all bob on the surface of the motionless water inside of her.

They don’t talk about what happened. Marianne returns to paint and Héloïse sits in the chair with her laptop on another moving side table, looking over manuscripts that are waiting approval to be published. She is already working at her father’s company. They work in silence, just appreciating each other’s presence. It is very comforting. Marianne knows that Héloïse isn’t mad at her.

Three hours pass with them working in silence. Only exchanging many glances and few words to each other in that time. Marianne has completed most of the background in that time and was moving onto mixing deeper reds to finish the rest. Héloïse in that time managed to complete her work and is admiring Marianne in her element. She almost feels a little jealous that she is no longer Marianne’s muse.

Héloïse is always Marianne’s muse.

Héloïse watches the way Marianne’s eyes furrow when she’s thinking of her next move. She loves the way Marianne’s eyes scan the painting, looking for the perfect spot to apply the paint. She admires the passion that Marianne puts into every one of her artworks. She’s never seen someone so confident in their work. As much as she loves to watch Marianne work, she can’t stand to watch such a boring task.

“Marianne?” Silence. She tries again. “Marianne?”

“Hm?” She’s too focused on her work to turn towards Héloïse.

“Let’s get out of here.”

A few more brush strokes connect to the fabric, then Marianne backs away from the canvas. She puts her brush and palette down. She has officially completed the background of the piece. She turns to Héloïse with a grin on her face.

“I know a place,” Marianne says, taking a step back from the painting, admiring her work done so far.

* * *

The sun is starting to set on the horizon. Héloïse is holding tightly onto Marianne as they fly through the air. Her hands make fists in the black fabric of Marianne’s hoodie. The air surrounding them is hot; Marianne can’t tell if it’s from the sun or from the body hugging her tight. She assumes the former. 

The world as they know it has come to a stop. Driving on a barely paved country road towards an undisclosed location with no one else in sight gives them both a sense of comfort. Large century old trees surround and overhang the road as they drive on by. The sun barely able to pass through the dense leaves. Héloïse can feel Marianne’s breath, her chest falls and rising in a rhymical pattern.

There’s not a sound that floats in the air, only the tires connecting to the dirt and the engine roaring. It’s peaceful and makes Héloïse forget about everything. She embraces the moment. Being alone with Marianne feels so freeing. She wants nothing more than to be with the brunette.

Soon, Marianne turns off the dirt road and onto another. This road is definitely one that is not often visited, the path is narrow and grass dares to grow. The trees are dense as ever, growing in close proximity to each other. In the distance, they can hear leaves dancing in the wind. As the continue down this path, the trees start to thin out and open up the area.

Héloïse’s jaw drops, looking at the empty pond in front of them. It is so serene, so cliché. The water is still, only rippling when in contact with bugs that skim the surface. The engine is cut, ridding the surroundings of harsh sounds. The orchestra of the bugs and the scratching of the leaves are heard.

The pair pull up near the edge of the pond before stopping. Marianne waits for Héloïse to climb off her bike before she does. They both take off their helmets and place it on the motorcycle. Once off, Marianne takes her backpack from the shoulders of Héloïse and digs in it to pull out a blanket. Héloïse watches Marianne drape the large black wool blanket onto the ground. She gestures for the blonde to sit down so she does after taking off her shoes. Marianne follows suite after.

They’re both seated on the blanket now, looking at the still water in front of them. They don’t share any words yet. Just taking in the vast beauty. Marianne turns her head to look at the blonde. Somehow, the sun sneaks through the leaves of the trees as its setting to illuminate Héloïse and she doesn’t dare tear her eyes away from an angel.

Héloïse feels Marianne staring at her so she turns her head to stare back. They’re eyes meet each other’s. They’re in love again. It’s like the morning after the accident and those days leading up to that night that ended it all. Everything feels right in the world when they lock eyes. Héloïse smiles at Marianne, which she receives one back in return.

Marianne leans back onto her arms with her legs stretched out in front of her. Héloïse remains sitting up with her legs crossed. Marianne looks up at Héloïse, squinting slightly from the sun’s rays. “I used to come here a lot after my mom died. I have never showed anyone this place, but this is where I would do my art. It was like an escape from reality.”

Héloïse agrees. An escape from reality. “It’s nice here. I want to swim.” She nods towards the water.

“Do you know how to swim?”

“I don’t know.”

Marianne looks at her with worry. “Well if you don’t know how to swim, maybe you shouldn’t.”

“No, I don’t know if I know how to swim.”

Marianne looks at Héloïse confused. What a strange girl. “You should try then.”

Héloïse’s eyes are glued on the water ahead. As she stands, she asks. “Come with me?” Her head turns to Marianne.

Marianne nods and brings herself to meet Héloïse. They’re mere inches apart. Marianne suddenly feels like she can’t breathe. Her emotions are flooding into her conscious again, this time they coming crashing in like a tsunami. She’s unable to stop the waves. But she’s good at hiding them.

Héloïse goes to take off her t-shirt first. Marianne does the same thing with her sweater. Their eyes are still on each other. Héloïse goes to take off her shorts next. Marianne watches them fall all the way down her legs. Marianne can feel herself start salivating, like one of Pavlov’s dogs. Marianne does the same to her denim shorts. Her eyes follow Héloïse’s all the way down.

Marianne’s still in her shirt, while Héloïse is standing there with socks and underwear on. She wonders if Héloïse will take off more. To make it fair, Marianne slowly takes her t-shirt off to tease Héloïse a little. Marianne smirks when Héloïse’s breath hitches. She still has an effect on the blonde. Now they’re both even, Marianne waiting on Héloïse’s move.

While still making eye contact, Héloïse reaches behind her back and unbuckles her bra. Letting it fall down her arms. Marianne takes a deep breath as Héloïse fingers wrap around the last piece of fabric that covers her. She’s only standing in her socks. Marianne wants to so desperately touch the bare body in front of her, but she suppresses the urge.

The socks come off in record time and before Marianne can regain her composure, Héloïse is already in the water. Marianne watches Héloïse enter the water slowly from the shore. When the water reaches her knees, Héloïse stops and looks at Marianne with a big smile. “Are you coming?”

Marianne nods and quickly strips the rest of her clothes. She runs towards the water, slowly stepping into the cold water. The water feels nice against her burning hot skin. Héloïse is chest deep in the water, Marianne slowly walks through the water towards her. The fallen green leaves on the surface of the water spread as she cuts through. They’re now standing face to face in the middle of the pond, chest deep.

Marianne watches Héloïse. She takes a deep breath and disappears under the somewhat suspicious water. Marianne does the same. The water is a blanket of salvation. There is no noise that travel through the murkiness. Their surrounds are completely still. It feels peaceful. They both break the surface tension when they’ve ran out of breath.

Marianne stands static staring at the blonde. Their proximity is so close, yet feels so far. The last they were intimate was during Arthur and Vincent’s graduation party and they were both drunk. Marianne barely remembered that occurring and she doesn’t know if Héloïse remembers. But she somehow always finds herself in this position with Héloïse. Where she has to control her urges to fuck the blonde and her heart is heavy. Two very confusing feelings to mix.

“I feel like I’m on top of the world,” Héloïse whispers.

The earth around them is quiet.

Héloïse is a black hole.


	19. Chapter 19

Monday – 2 days until wedding.

After a long night out with Héloïse, Marianne wakes up feeling happy for the first time in a while. She doesn’t feel guilty for this. Héloïse and Vincent are both trapped in this financial exchange she’s convinced that no one wants anymore. Vincent still doesn’t know about Héloïse and Marianne’s feelings for each other and she’s certain that he never will. There are no feelings present besides platonic ones anyway. She’s not really hurting anyone but herself and she can deal with the pain. As long as it meant that Héloïse and Vincent are both in her life.

She wakes with the sun. Her body is fatigued but her mind feels refreshed. She sits on her balcony with a cigarette in her mouth, watching the sunrise. Something that she hasn’t done in a while. She analyses the colours of the sun, admiring the complexities of the universe.

She’s going suit shopping for Vincent with the boys later today. As his best (wo)man, it’s mandatory that she’s there for every wedding event. She dreads shopping, especially when it’s not for her. Even more so that it’s for her brother to get married, but she’ll have to suck it up for a couple of hours. If only he knew, maybe she would be finding a suit for herself.

After finishing her cigarette, she hops into the shower to begin her day. By the time she got out, the sun shines bright, bringing the earth to life. She gets changed into her usual outfit of all black and starts towards her studio. When she arrived, she starts on her painting. It’s doesn’t feel the same without Héloïse, the absence is noticeable. She hopes that this painting will distract her enough from her emotions so she never has to face reality. She immediately starts to mix white oil paint with very little amounts of blue. Once satisfied with the colour, she gets down to work.

A couple hours have passed before she decides to take a break. Marianne’s outside under the sun in her signature spot with a cigarette between her lips. Her phone is in her hand as she answers her emails and text messages. She has four commissions lined up for next week, she’s going to be very busy once her best friend and brother are gone. It’ll help distract her.

A name pops up on her screen. It brings a smile to her lips.

 **Héloïse Leclair:** Hey, wyd?

Marianne pops the cigarette in her mouth and answers.

 **Marianne:** nm, just working on the painting.

 **Héloïse Leclair:** Can I come over?

 **Marianne:** yeah see you soon :)

20 minutes later, the studio doors open. Marianne peaks from behind her canvas to see Héloïse. They both smile at each other warmly as a greeting. Marianne sees Héloïse holding a bag and two coffees in a tray. She gives Héloïse a questioning look, “What is that?” She points with her paint brush towards the items in her hands.

“I brought you breakfast. I figured you haven’t eaten.”

Marianne smiles at this gesture, the waves inside her are crashing harder against her walls. No one really knows her as well as Héloïse does. They sit together on one of the rolling side tables Marianne has laying around her studio. It has been less than 12 hours since they’ve seen each other, but Marianne wouldn’t have it any other way. There’s always a sensation of comfort when Héloïse is around. Marianne finds the blonde in front of her intoxication. She’s convinced that she has been pricked by Cupid’s love arrow or put under a love spell. Platonically, naturally.

“Do you ever think about how massive the universe is?” Héloïse asks as she takes a sip of her coffee. She’s leaning back on the chair with her arms and legs crossed. Anyone who saw Héloïse like this would be intimidated.

Marianne raises an eyebrow at the random question, but chuckles anyway. “Not often, but yes.”

Héloïse’s mind is elsewhere, her eyes look as if she’s in a trance. Flung out of space. “It’s just so vast. Like a star could be exploding and we wouldn’t know.” Héloïse locks eyes with Marianne. “You feel like an exploding star.”

* * *

It’s 6pm and Marianne’s running late to the wedding suit finding party. She lost track of time while painting, but managed to finish more than half of it and a full day tomorrow should render the painting complete. She’s now on her motorcycle and stuck in the midst of downtown Paris’ traffic. It’s unpleasantly loud with many cars around her. The sun is starting to dip down into the horizon, blinding her slightly as she drives. She’s trying her best to rush through the busy streets by driving in between lanes, but the traffic lights refuse to stay green.

She can feel her phone vibrate in her pocket. She knows it’s Vincent and she knows he’s freaking out. He always gets really stressed out during big events, even more so now that he’s the one getting married. She’s reaches the store after another 15 minutes stuck in traffic.

Marianne pushes through the clear glass doors with pretentious gold handles. There are many expensive suits that are on display. She knows that Vincent can’t afford these suits and Victor definitely doesn’t have enough money to pay either. So, she assumes that the Leclairs are paying for him. Such a luxury being rich. She immediately sees Arthur and Benoit sitting hunched over on the very nice white couches. They are the only two in the store besides the men dressed very nicely at the counter. She can tell that they are frustrated and want this to end.

“Hey guys. How’s it going?”

Arthur looks at her with the most dread in his eyes ever. “Horrible.”

“He has tried on like five different suits and he doesn’t think that Mr. Leclair would like any of them,” Benoit says with his head in his hands. “They literally look all the same.” Clear frustration in his voice.

Marianne laughs at the group. Vincent walks out of the dressing room in a three-piece white suit with a blue tie. Marianne knows the blue tie would match Héloïse’s oceanic eyes. She looks at Vincent up and down. He looks very handsome. Héloïse is lucky to marry a guy like him, there are worse options.

“You look good,” Marianne offers. Arthur and Benoit nod eagerly, hoping to not prolong their torture.

Vincent checks himself out in the full-length mirror on the wall. He tugs slightly on the edge of the blazer, straightening out the fabric. A twist to the right then a twist to the left as he further examines himself. Everyone’s waiting on his reaction. He makes a face and everyone knows that it’s not a good sign.

“Fucks sake, Vincent. They’re all the same man. Just pick one.” Arthur’s clearly frustrated having sat there for an hour already, looking at nothing but suits.

Vincent glares at him. “Arthur, this isn’t just a suit. This family has such a high standard. I need to make sure this is perfect. I don’t even want to do this anymore.” Marianne is shocked at his words. Vincent turns to Marianne. “Is white too cliché? Should I go for grey?”

Benoit leans back while releasing an exasperated sigh. Marianne looks Vincent over once, ignoring his statement. It’s too late to do anything anyway. “What are we supposed to wear again?” Marianne asks.

“They requested black suit and blue tie for the groomsmen.”

“You should go with grey then,” Marianne responds knowing that her little brother will listen to her advice.

He looks at the mirror once again then slouches. “This suit is $5,000. It doesn’t feel right to wear.”

“You’re going to be a Leclair now, get used to it. Did he see his watch at the dinner?” Benoit chimes in. “That shit is worth more than a yearly tuition.”

“Being rich must be nice.” Arthur sighs.

The workers around them are watching the four intently. Marianne notes that they look a little pissed off, probably from all the commotion they’re making. The four of them are the only customers in the shop. Guess this place is a little out of the normal person’s price range. Very classist.

Vincent sighs and enters the dressing room again. His voice can be heard from behind the black curtain. “I guess I’ll take this. I shouldn’t have pushed this back for so long; I still have to get it tailored. What a mistake I’ve made. Whatever, now onto ties.”

Marianne notices how upset Vincent is. It’s hard to see, gut they all sense it. Marianne finally takes a seat in between the two boys on the couch. It’s uncomfortably hard. Arthur leans into Marianne and whispers, “Thank god you’re here. He wouldn’t listen to us at all.”

Benoit leans in next, “He’s been stressed out of his mind. Please help us.”

Marianne laughs at the two boys. “It can’t be that bad.”

“Just wait.”

It was that bad. Vincent desperately wanted to try on 10 different shades of blue ties, ranging from a navy blue to light sky blue. All of them were forced to try on the ties as well. Vincent couldn’t decide on a colour, disagreeing with Benoit and Arthur’s different choices. Marianne doesn’t give her opinion even after Vincent begs her.

She doesn’t want to help him pick the correct shade of blue that matches Héloïse’s eyes.

Even though she knew the exact shade.

After an hour of picking out ties, they all finally settle on what Vincent thinks is the best choice. It isn’t. It’s not even close to matching the intensity of blue in Héloïse’s eyes. Vincent settles on the three-piece suit and pays for the four ties as well. The grand total came to $6,500 after tax. He pulls out a credit card that she hasn’t seen before.

Afterwards, they all funnel out of the too fancy suit store and start to head to the parking lot around the corner. They had all agreed to go to dinner right after they were done. Marianne stayed silent when Benoit asked to invite Sophie and Héloïse. Benoit called the two girls while the other three were debating on ties, when he returned, he had on a huge smile.

The air is cool tonight. The streets are busy with many people, even though it’s a Monday. The streetlamps are on as a signal that the sun has gone to sleep, but the orange hue still shows in the sky. There is stupid banter in the group accompanied by loud steps from them on the concrete below.

“What are you even going to do in Milan? Become a housewife?” Arthur jokes.

“No, I think I’ll get a PhD position so I’ll be doing that,” Vincent replies.

Benoit puts a hand on Vincent’s shoulders, “Are you excited about Milan? It’s the city of music from what I heard.”

Vincent shakes his head, “No, I want to stay here. Besides, who even listens to orchestras anymore.”

“I mean lots of people do,” Arthur rebuttals. “I’m going to miss you man.”

“Me too.”

Silence hangs in the air once they approach their vehicles. Sadness is lingers between the four of them. The three boys came together in Vincent’s very beat up car. He jokes that he’s going to be driving a Bugatti soon. Sophie and Héloïse offered to cook for the group. It’s starting to become torture to be around Héloïse so much but not actually have her. Better than nothing.

The boys start entering into the old Honda civic, Arthur having called shot gun sits in the front. Marianne pulls out a cigarette and lights it as the engine starts. Arthur cranks the window down, the screeching glass descends. Vincent ducks under the roof of the car to see Marianne.

“We’ll see you there?”

Marianne nods and the boys pull out of the parking spot. Marianne’s alone now, surrounded by heaps of metal, but there is no sign of life. She continues to smoke the cigarette, trying to suppress her built up emotion. The whole shopping ordeal was very hard on her. Watching her brother pick out his suit and tie for his wedding to the girl she loves. But she doesn’t love her.

It’s not like she constantly thinks about the blonde. She never thinks about how her heart flutters when she sees Héloïse’s name pop up on her phone. Or the way Héloïse makes her feel when their eyes meet one another. Marianne ignores the comfort she feels with Héloïse around, even when they do unexciting activities together. She thinks that it’s normal for her to examine the way Héloïse’s lips curve into a smile.

She’s an artist, this is what they do. They study, memorize. Marianne’s very sure that she doesn’t love Héloïse. A simple infatuation of a very attractive person. Denial works so well.

Once the nicotine suppresses her feelings and her thoughts wander elsewhere, she hops on her bike and starts towards Héloïse’s house. The path is all too familiar towards the grand palace. The trees greet her, waving their leaves in the wind. The night sky surrounds her as she passes through the neighbourhood of bugs.

Dinner passed quickly, full of conversations about various topics. Marianne was more quiet than usual. The dining room was filled with loud laughter and conversation. The girls decided on buying pizza instead of making a mess from cooking. Of course, no one complained. Marianne notes that as they were all talking, conversation never landed on the wedding that is fast approaching in two days. No one actually mentions anything about relationships, much to Marianne’s relief.

After everyone was full, the group decides to head upstairs into the second entertainment room with glasses of wine in hand. There is a large round wooden table in the middle of the massive family room, surrounded by too many couches. There is a medium size wooden bookshelf pushed against the wall with every board game imaginable. Everyone is seated on the ground in front of the couches. Sophie is standing in front of the bookshelf as every argues about what game they want to play.

“Let’s play Life!” Sophie gleefully suggests.

“No babe, that game is boring and takes no skill,” Benoit justifies. This earns him a pout from Sophie.

“What about some good ole wholesome Monopoly?” Arthur proposes.

That is the worse idea anyone could’ve suggested, but alas, the board is spread out on the table. Benoit insists on being in charge of the bank, saying something about how he’s the only one in business, like that matters. But no one argues.

The game starts out relatively calm. No one has any monopolies yet, just scattered properties around the board. Arthur has been urging everyone to trade for his shitty properties and no money in hopes of a monopoly, but no one agrees. Héloïse is technically in the lead, only missing one light blue property to complete her set, which is still unbought on the board. It’s Vincent’s turn to roll, needing a 7 to get the property that Héloïse needs.

The blows on the die in his hand then rolls them onto the board. The dice spin around the board, everyone’s anticipating the worse. One shows a 4 and the other one shows a 2. A six, one off of what he needed to have control over Héloïse.

“Yes!” Héloïse cheers triumphantly.

She only has one more person in front of her before she has a chance to roll for it. It’s Marianne’s turn. Marianne needs to roll a 2 for the property. She looks Héloïse right in the eyes who sits beside her as she rolls the die on the board. Their gaze is full of desire. Platonic desire. The noise of the die connecting to the cardboard can be heard, then it goes silent.

Their eyes are still on one another. Loss in each other’s soul. Marianne breaks the eye contact to look at the die.

Snake eyes.


	20. Chapter 20

Monday night – 2 days until wedding.

Héloïse eyes are flaring, “Don’t you dare.”

Marianne looks at her back with the same glint, but of desire. The competitive nature of Héloïse turns on Marianne immensely. Héloïse blushes seeing the look in Marianne’s eyes, having seen it hovering above her before. Marianne shoots her a smirk and pays Benoit for the property, denying Héloïse of her monopoly.

“You bitch!” Héloïse says in frustration. Marianne sticks out her tongue at her. Sophie laughs.

The room’s tension raises. Marianne believes it’s nothing but the wine getting to her head. She swears Héloïse has never looked more irresistible than she does now with her messy curls tied up but falling out of her bun. Her lips seem to be more inviting than ever. Her eyes burn with the desire that Marianne yearns.

“Marianne?”

She snaps out of her thoughts when she hears Sophie address her. She tries to hide her blush when she looks at the small brunette. Sophie gives her a look that means she has caught her staring at Héloïse. “Yeah?” She responds. She doesn’t know what’s going on in the game anymore.

“Roll again.”

Oh. Everyone is staring at Marianne who was staring at Héloïse. No one says anything. She feels embarrassment fester inside of her. Marianne refuses to look at the blonde again when she reaches for the die. Maybe the tension is real. Out of her peripheral she sees Héloïse give Sophie a look, but she can’t tell what it is. The dice rolls and hits an empty property.

“You have to be fucking with me!” Héloïse’s voice strains with frustration. Everyone around is finding it funny how worked up Héloïse is getting over this game. “You take my monopoly then get one?” Héloïse huffs in complete irritation.

Marianne connects her eyes to Héloïse once again. Héloïse starts to blush at the intensity those hazel eyes are giving off. “Be better.”

Maybe Marianne’s luck is turning around.

* * *

The game concluded with Marianne winning, Vincent being the last person she bankrupted. Héloïse was bankrupted before Vincent, never having received the last light blue property she needed. The group has finished too many bottles of wine and everyone is feeling good. Arthur decided to remain sober.

Marianne feels as if she’s on top of the world, the high from winning such an intense game. Marianne and Vincent were very neck in neck the entire game. Héloïse struggled a bit but held on out of luck of not landing on any properties, until her last move such caused her to file for bankruptcy.

The Alméras siblings were yelling at each other during the final turns of the game. Every sided with Vincent, hoping he would win except for Sophie who was Marianne’s sole cheerleader. Marianne gave Sophie a big hug after she has won. The two giving everyone else the finger as they hang their head in defeat.

It’s 10pm now and the world outside has mostly gone to sleep. Arthur and Vincent are getting ready to leave. Benoit is staying the night with Sophie per her request. As Arthur is throwing on his jacket, Vincent says, “Marianne, we can drive you home.”

There’s a silence, contemplating whether she should take the ride or not. Before she could answer, Héloïse’s voice carries through the air. “She can stay the night. We have a lot of rooms, plus she probably needs her bike tomorrow.”

“Yes! I’m going to be with Benoit so we can’t let Héloïse be third wheel alone.” Sophie says right after.

Marianne looks at Vincent and shrugs. Guess the choice has been made. Arthur and Vincent say good bye, Héloïse doesn’t hug Vincent or anything. Once the door closes, Sophie has finished cleaning up the board game. She grabs Benoit’s hand and leads him past the two girls.

“Thank me later,” Sophie says in her cheery happy voice. Marianne can’t help but smile at her antics.

Héloïse and Marianne both stand still until they hear a bedroom door open then close. Héloïse turns around to face Marianne. Neither know what to do now. The urge to kiss Héloïse is there, but won’t be acted upon. Marianne fears for what comes next. She’s victim to Héloïse’s next actions.

Héloïse steps closer to her. The air between them becomes dense and unbreathable. Marianne feels her heart pick up. They’re staring at each other. It’s intimate. Then, Héloïse gives her a warm smile, full of blue in her eyes. The lack of happiness in this smile is evident. She can tell Héloïse is hurting inside. She’s broken and Marianne has the ability to fix it, but she can’t. Fate is an unmovable force.

They stay like this for a few moments later before Héloïse turns on her heels and start for the stairs. Marianne silently follows behind; her footsteps are inaudible. She follows Héloïse up the wooden staircase to their sanctuary. Her Orpheus, has the power to bring her back from hell, but she can’t. They are a Greek tragedy. One that has been painted time and time again. Maybe their painting will be hung in Le Louvre.

At the top of the stairs, Héloïse turns around. Marianne is there. She doesn’t get taken away back into the chamber of hell. Héloïse doesn’t lose her Eurydice to Hades, but their story is as tragic as they come.

When Héloïse is sure that Marianne won’t disappear, she steps up the last step and touches the cold hardwood floor. Marianne walks behind Héloïse by a step, afraid that at any moment, Héloïse would turn and tell her to leave. But she doesn’t. She enters the open door and closes it behind her.

The room is dark, only illuminated by the small lamp beside the white-covered bed. Marianne fails to notice that most of Héloïse’s items are gone. Too transfixed on the blonde.

Héloïse sits on the edge her king size bed waiting for Marianne to approach. “I’m still mad at you for taking the property.” Héloïse whispers when Marianne sits beside her.

“I couldn’t let you win. That’s cheating.”

“Well, it’s bullshit,” Héloïse says and falls back into her bed.

Marianne feels Héloïse shift around behind her. She stays stationary on the edge of the bed. There are so many emotions that course through Marianne leaving her speechless. She has no idea what she wants to say. She feels a finger on her back through the thin fabric of her shirt. The tracing of light touches is unable to be deciphered.

“You always come back,” Héloïse’s voice barely over a whisper.

The words cause Marianne to turn around, leaving the note on her back unfinished. Her hazel eyes meet blue. “I’m not aware that I am. I’m just drawn to you. You’re like the sun with your own gravitational pull,” Marianne jokes.

Héloïse lips curl into a soft smile. It’s such a beautiful sight. Her blonde hair sprawled carelessly on the white pillow. Her eyes are so electrifyingly blue. Marianne wants to draw her, but commits it to memory instead.

“I remember the first day I met you. You looked so hot, so bad boy and you came late. I was pissed off, but I was more nervous than anything when I saw you. I wanted you to like me,” Héloïse whispers. Marianne feels Héloïse’s fingers on her the fabric of her thigh now. “Then I remember seeing you in the bar and I couldn’t tear my eyes off of you.”

Marianne smiles shyly. Her heart is beating so loud, her head is pounding. “Your gaze is pretty intense.”

“So is my love for you. I would choose you.”

Silence.

Marianne would choose her too. A thousand times over. If only it were different.

Héloïse pats her space beside her. Marianne lies down, their eyes are at the same level. They are mere inches apart. Marianne wants to taste Héloïse’s lips. Her lets eyes accidentally drop down to the lush lips. She looks back up to see Héloïse’s eyes trapped on her lips.

“We shouldn’t.” These words escape Marianne’s lips before she can stop them.

Blue eyes are back on hers. There’s so much sorrow in them. “But I want to.” Marianne’s breath hitches at the blonde’s words. She can feel Héloïse’s hot breath on her lips.

Their eyes don’t break apart. Subconsciously leaning in. Marianne heart’s about to jump out of her chest. It’s so quiet in the room. She knows that Héloïse can hear her heart beating.

The distance between them is closing in.

Just as they’re both leaning in, the bedroom door flies open. Both startles apart and turn to see the culprit. Sophie’s standing at the door with a huge smirk on her face, like a parent catching their child doing something embarrassing. Marianne’s heart is now racing from fright. Her head is going to explode.

“What is it Sophie?” Héloïse asks with clear frustration in her voice.

“Benoit fell asleep and I’m bored. I can leave if you guys are busy.” Her voice trails off in the last sentence, insinuating something.

Héloïse looks with an apologetic smile but Marianne shrugs. Nothing like a distraction to tear her thoughts away from smashing their lips together. She likes Sophie and wouldn’t mind getting to know her better anyway. Héloïse gestures for Sophie to enter and she does, jumping into bed with Marianne and Héloïse, sitting crossed-legged at the end of the bed. Marianne smiles at how carefree Sophie lives. Marianne and Héloïse both sit up, mimicking Sophie.

“So, what were you guys doing?” Sophie asks, knowing the question would make both of them blush. There’s a feign of innocence in her voice.

Héloïse gives her a glare despite the pink tint on her cheeks. “Absolutely nothing.”

“That feels like a lie.”

“Well it isn’t.”

“I saw something different.”

“Your vision must be deceiving you. We weren’t doing anything Sophie.”

Sophie ignores Héloïse and turns to Marianne. She has a small smile on her face from seeing the two banter. Sophie is surprisingly not afraid standing up to Héloïse, for someone as timid looking as she is.

“I saw you two at the club you know. You guys thought you were being all sneaky, but really? You guys couldn’t have gone to the bathroom?” Sophie rambles. “I distracted the boys for you. It was a miracle that none of them saw.”

Héloïse glares at her. Marianne’s mouth hangs agape and her eyes wide. So, someone did see. It wasn’t fiction written in her head. She feels her cheeks warm up at the memory. As Marianne’s processing the information, Héloïse speaks up. “Sophie! I told you not to talk about that to anyone.”

Sophie ignores Héloïse and keeps going, “Yeah you guys don’t really hide it too well. No one really notices though I guess. You guys constantly stare at each other, for like a really long time. Boys are stupid. Like Benoit asked to stay the night and now he’s sleeping.” Marianne’s still in shock but a nervous laugh leaves her mouth. Sophie must know everything. “To answer your question, yes I do know everything. Héloïse tells me everything. Even that one time-.”

“Sophie,” Héloïse’s voice is stern.

“What time?” Marianne asks.

“Well, there’s that one instant where you guys were in Vincent’s room the very first party we went to. Or that time you came to the office unannounced, that was fun. Héloïse’s lipstick was smudge and you had a lot of it on your face. I didn’t let her forget it about it that entire day. You guys should be characters in a book. I think people would love to read about this.”

Marianne blushes. All this time, she thought no one knew, like they were secret agents. But of course, this little brunette who always gives her weird looks knows everything. It’s always the quiet shy ones that you have to look out for. Marianne doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t know what to say. Worried that if she opened her mouth, she would plead guilty and be punished.

“Enough of this Sophie,” Héloïse commands. This time she listens. Maybe it’s because there’s a low growl in the voice.

“Sorry not sorry. I want you two together. This is so stupid,” Sophie says with her hands dramatically flailing in the air. Marianne agrees. It is stupid.

Marianne gives Sophie a reassuring smile. The air is silent. Marianne’s absorbing the information that Sophie gave. She decides to ask about Milan. “What are you going to do once Héloïse goes to Milan?”

Marianne can see Héloïse tense at the topic. Sophie answers. “I was supposed to go with her, but I don’t know anymore. Benoit and my family are here plus I have a decent job. It’s going to be very different not living with Héloïse.” Sophie’s voice contains a hint of sadness.

Héloïse puts a reassuring hand on Sophie’s knee. “Don’t worry Sophie. You’ll always be my best friend.”

“I better be. I’m the best.” The group laughs at this.

Marianne envies the relationship between Héloïse and Sophie. She wishes she had a person like this. Well, she did. It was Vincent, but he’s the source of her heartbreak right now. It’s not like she can go up to him and spew out all her thoughts and emotions about Héloïse. That would crush him too.

“What are you going to do after all this?” Sophie then asks Marianne.

Marianne ponders this question. She hasn’t thought much about what comes after Wednesday. In all honesty, she doesn’t want to. She can’t stand to think about how Héloïse will be 8 hours away from her. She doesn’t want to imagine not seeing Héloïse frequently or if they’ll ever talk again. What will she do? Her best friend and brother will be gone. She’ll have no one.

All alone. Once again.


	21. Chapter 21

Tuesday – 1 day before wedding.

It’s the calm before the storm.

Marianne wakes to the sound of rain hitting the window and tapping from tree branches. She wakes up comfortable, sunk into the bed. A body beside her stirs when she turns to face them. She’s met with blonde hair and blue eyes; half her face is covered by the white duvet. Marianne can tell that she’s smiling due to the way her eyes light up. Her eyes are calm today, the ocean is relaxed within.

Reality sinks in. Marianne turns away to look up at the ceiling, trying to suppress the water from reaching her eyes. Tomorrow. Héloïse is getting married tomorrow. Marianne time and time again has tried to come to terms with this, every single time she thinks she has it, the influx of regret and sorrow returns.

Seeing Héloïse for all these days have allowed her to ignore the situation as a whole. She was naïve to believe that nothing was changing. That they are to live like this for the rest of their lives. She doesn’t regret her choices though. The time spent together was blissful, something that they both needed. But now comes the hardest part that they both must endure.

Reality is settling in.

“You okay?” Héloïse asks, her eyes still on Marianne trying to study her features.

Marianne’s saddened hazel eyes turn to Héloïse and Héloïse already knew the answer. Marianne lies anyway. “Yes.”

Last night was so perfect, so happy and euphoric. They spent countless of hours with Sophie talking about everything. Their dreams, their beliefs, and even aliens. Everyone agreed that aliens exist. Marianne made a joke about how the earth is flat, earning her a nice verbal assault. None of them have laughed that hard and that genuinely. The chemistry between the three is natural. It feels like what life should be.

“I have to go to my office soon. There’s still stuff I need to grab.” Marianne can hear the defeat in Héloïse’s voice.

All this time spent ignoring her true feelings for Héloïse has been unsuccessful. She has tried denying, ignoring, distracting. Nothing has worked. All this effort spent on convincing herself that it was a mere crush is making it harder for her to breath now. Accepting it is the hardest part, one that she refuses to do. But here she is, in love with the person beside her and there’s nothing she can do.

They both know this is the last time. The last time that they will share a bed before she is married. The last time that they would have countless of hours alone. Though, Marianne is thankful she’s able to experience a last time. She’s not angry. She’s grateful.

* * *

Marianne’s back in her studio, alone this time. The silence is uncomfortable, with a lingering feeling of defeat present in the air. She has 8 hours to finish this painting before she has to attend Vincent’s bachelor party. Without distraction, that should be possible. She’s thankful that the boys dealt with the preparations, so she didn’t have to do anything. 

She immediately starts to mix the paints she needs. While she does, she examines the picture. It is almost done and she has poured all of her heartbreak into this one painting. She has decided today that once she is done, she’ll enter it into art galleries or art auctions. She believes that this art is worth seeing. She doesn’t have a truly established name yet, so she might have to apply it under Victor’s. A cruel world that she lives in. Her art can’t even be deemed as hers.

After the first couple of hours, she has mostly finished painting the two figures in the foreground. The colours of their white clothes are intricate. The white has a hint over underlying blue tones, to contrast the red fiery background of the underworld. It is intentionally done to bring the focus on the lovers in the middle rather than them disappearing into the painting. It is about the lovers, nothing else.

She decides to take a break after four hours of standing and painting. Her feet hurt and her hands ache. She’s starving and also dehydrated. When she’s focused, she doesn’t stop for anything. She has ordered food and waiting outside on the top step for it. The rain has stopped when she reached her studio four hours back. The sun is out high in the sky, trying to cheer her up, but nothing works.

Ever since she left Héloïse’s house she has felt an absence inside of her. A Héloïse shaped hole in her heart. Something about leaving this time was different. It felt real. The pit feeling that this is truly the last time. This feeling hovers over Marianne’s head, taunting her about tomorrow’s events. All her efforts to ignore the overwhelming emotion have been proven futile. The waves are uncontrollable today and the tide is fast approaching. No matter how much she backs away, the tide keeps approaching.

After another two hours of painting, she applies the final brushstroke in Eurydice’s hair and backs away. Fatigue is setting on very quickly now as she feels her mind fogging and her body grow heavy. Countless of long hours are hard on her body, but she is finally done. In front of her is a large canvas. The background consists of multitudes of red and brown earth tones, large red stone mountains, and fire surrounds the entire area. It depicts Héloïse’s soul, red and fiery, ranging from passion to anger, all mixed and jumbled up. The river of styx runs through the bottom of the painting, bubbling lava from intense heat.

But in the fore, where the couple walks is bright and lively. Orpheus and Eurydice are wearing all white, contrasting the dark nature of the underworld. There is a white halo around them, delineating heaven. Nothing in the deepest parts of the underworld can stop their radiating love. Orpheus is walking one step in front of Eurydice; his head is drawn looking back at her. There is a huge smile on his face and love painted in his eyes. After everything, they are reunited and the love poem was created.

Orpheus is able to turn back to look at Eurydice as often as he likes. She can’t. Marianne envies him.

She closes her eyes.

And it all floods in. All the love, passion, want, desire; every emotion wash over Marianne. Héloïse. She’s always been there. A part of Marianne. The water is rising so quickly that her head submerges under the vast darkness. She can’t breathe nor see, but she feels warm and comfortable. Héloïse. This is what love is. Comfortable suffocation at the hands of another. She no longer fights to smother it. She lets the flame burn inside of her.

Marianne loves Héloïse.

* * *

Marianne finds herself in the same bar as she did the first day. The day that she met Héloïse. She would have never imagined that those blue eyes and red lips would ruin her in so man _y_ ways. She’s surrounded by the same people as before. Her people, but they feel more like strangers. This time is more dismal. She wonders if the first time Vincent bought a drink for Héloïse was a set up. As if they both agreed to meet here. It is too coincidental otherwise.

It’s a lot emptier than last time. The live music is loud but not deafening. The lights are dimmed as always and she feels like she’s living in a shadow. They’ve only been there for less than an hour. No one seems to be having that much fun. Her head hangs, eyes are locked on the circular wood damage. The dark wood makes the stain so distinct. She doesn’t hear the conversation from the boys, all she can think about are those blue eyes. It’s becoming more and more surreal.

Tomorrow, she’s going to have to stand on stage to see Héloïse walk down the aisle in a beautiful and grand wedding dress towards her. But not towards her. Towards her brother. No amount of distraction or alcohol can wash away the image she has painted in her head. She imagines how breathtaking Héloïse will be. That blonde hair that has been in her hands will fall perfectly from her head. Perfect lips will curve into a smile as she walks closer.

“You okay Marianne?” Vincent asks her, breaking her thought.

She looks up from the counter and looks at her brother. Her chest is caving in. She can’t really breath. “No.”

Vincent eyes shoot open wide. Marianne hasn’t been truthful about her emotions to him since before Héloïse. But it’s different now. She can no longer ignore the water trying to drown her. “Why, what’s wrong?”

She can’t tell him. He would feel so guilty. It’s not his fault. “I can’t tell you.” Her voice is hush. She looks back at the counter. Her fingers fiddle around the glass of beer in front of her.

She can see out of the side of her eye that he’s confused. He leans further into her to keep his voice low, “Did you kill someone?”

Marianne turns to Vincent in shock and gives him a light punch on his arm. Her mouth is agape with feigned shock. “No. It’s probably worse.”

“I revere your efforts to protect me M, but I’m not a little kid anymore. I can handle whatever you need to tell me.”

Marianne takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. She knows Vincent’s being sincere. She also knows that he wouldn’t be mad at her. Shocked, but he’s never mad. Marianne can’t admit it, she barely was able to admit it to herself earlier. Admitting such feelings to another person would make it too real. She would truly drown this time.

Before she can answer, Arthur decides to speak up. “This is fucking bullshit man. I know it’s too late for you to go back on it, but this is some fucked up shit. I’m losing my best friend in like a week to some arranged marriage. I’ve known you for this long and this is how it ends.”

Vincent tears his attention away from Marianne after a moment. Everyone is shocked to hear Arthur speak up. He’s always been someone who is docile, always wanting to please everyone. Vincent doesn’t answer, he’s static. He’s re-evaluating his choices, but ultimately comes to the same conclusion as always.

“I know this suck but this isn’t the end. You guys can always fly to me or I can fly to you.” Vincent tries to reason with him.

There has been a blanket of sorrow this entire night. Everyone is expecting the worse tomorrow. Tomorrow is when everything shifts. The world will be turned upside down. Marianne can only hope that the world will blow up under her feet.

The sound of the boys talking become muffled to Marianne’s ears. They start to ring; her eyes start to lose focus. She can see Héloïse sitting at the end of the bar, like the very first night. Those piercing blue eyes glow under the dimmed light. She sees those red lips, ones that she has tasted time and time again. They’re curved into a smile, inviting Marianne to come over, but she can’t. She’s frozen staring at how beautiful the blonde is.

That blonde hair haunts her. She has seen them in every way imaginable. She has seen them up, falling out of a messy bun. She has seen it fall effortlessly around her shoulders. Marianne has even seen then sprawled out on a pillow while sweet gasps float through the air. Her hands have tangled themselves into the golden strands many times.

Marianne has seen, touched and felt every inch of what Héloïse has to offer.

Marianne decides to go for a smoke, hoping the nicotine will help. Barely announcing it to the boys, she exits the through the main doors. It’s dark and dreary outside. Rain is falling almost mist like, hanging in the air longer than usual. The road in front of her is busy and the streetlights reflect off the slick roads. The sound of cars passes by as she attempts to light the cigarette, the light mist keeps putting out the flame. All her efforts are failing, making her huff in frustration. After a few more attempts, the cigarette held the flame and Marianne takes a huge inhale.

“Can I have one?” Vincent’s voice startles Marianne.

She reaches into her jacket pocket and tosses him the pack and the lighter. After he successfully lights it, they both stand in silence, listening to the surroundings around them. Marianne silently prays that he doesn’t bring up their conversation from earlier.

Her prayers aren’t answered when he asks, “So about earlier, what’s so bad that you can’t tell me?”

She feels his tall stature shift beside her. He’s anxious too. She doesn’t answer right away. She wonders if telling him would change anything. She knows it won’t, but maybe?

“You can tell me anything, you know this M.” Thunder claps through the foggy grey sky.

She takes a deep breath and her mouth opens, but nothing escapes. Her heart is racing, the ringing in her ear is back. Across the street is Héloïse. Staring at her, urging her to go on. Her mouth closes again, shaking her head. She has never said those three words followed by her name yet.

“Please don’t hate me.” She says as he exhales a cloud of smoke. She can see him turn and face her. Her eyes are locked on the ghost in front.

“I will never hate you.”

She takes a deep breath, inhaling the water flooding her insides. There’s no backing down anymore.

She goes to say, "I love her.”

But nothing comes out.


	22. Chapter 22

Wednesday – Wedding day.

Marianne wakes to the sound of nature waking up for the morning. It is so lively outside her balcony with birds chirping, bees buzzing and people out and about. The sun is already in the sky, greeting all with warm hugs. The rays try to reach Marianne through the balcony door’s windows, but Marianne remains in the shadow. Marianne’s body feels heavy, as if the shadow is a weighted blanket holding her down.

She wants nothing more than to sink into the mattress, deep past the earth’s mantle and find herself in hell. She’ll beg Hades and Persephone to let her stay so she won’t have to endure the upcoming pain she’ll feel. Maybe she’ll get lucky and won’t have to attend the wedding. Even better, maybe the wedding will be cancelled by some unknown force Marianne has been praying to for the past week.

She gets up anyway, despite the hopelessness and depression she feels. Yesterday night was a mess. She stood silent for 20 minutes in the misty night with Vincent, unable to say a word. She finally admitted it to herself yesterday that she is wholeheartedly in love with Héloïse. But when she would try to say it, no sound would leave her mouth. She stood there as a still fool. The night concluded with her rushing home and going straight to bed.

No tears escaped though.

After hurrying to get ready, she makes her way to her studio, hoping to apply the varnish onto the painting before any of the wedding events occur. Due to the large size of the painting, she has to settle on spraying on the varnish, rather than her preferred method of brushing it. The purring of the air compressor fills the studio as she tries her best to spray even amounts of varnish on. After a few passes through the painting, she is satisfied with the evenness and the amount applied.

She carefully hangs the wet painting on the golden hook. She takes a step back and examines it for any imperfections in the varnish. As she steps close to the painting, her phone goes off, a text from Vincent.

**Vincent:** M, remember to be ready and at Héloïse’s at 1:30pm.

It’s 12:30pm now. Marianne always had a skill for being late. She would have to leave immediately if she had any hope of making there on time. Marianne takes one last look at the completed painting in front of her then takes her leave.

* * *

She’s back in her flat with 30 minutes before she is expected to be here. Traffic was especially bad from her studio to her house due all the workers are out for lunch. Now she stands in front of her closet, looking at the outfit already picked out. At least she wouldn’t have to dress herself. An all-black tailored suit that she has had forever, with a white shirt and that tie. That stupid blue tie that doesn’t even match the blue in Héloïse’s eyes.

She puts it on anyway. First, the white fitted dress shirt gets put on, buttoned all the way up to the neck. She buttons up the cuffs next and struggles a bit, but manages to successfully do it after a few frustrated words left her mouth. Then comes the tight black slacks that hug her legs in just the right places. She makes sure to tuck the shirt in the pants before buttoning it up and putting on a black belt with silver buckle.

Next, she focuses on the tie. Victor used to drill it into her head that the tie is the most important part of the outfit. The centre piece that if it is out of place, it ruins the look, He used to say that the tie is the focus of a painting. So, she spends extra time making sure that the half-Windsor knot looks perfect and it hangs at the perfect length. The tip half way down the belt buckle.

Marianne makes sure that the tie is perfectly straight and untucked underneath the collar, making sure that there is no blue showing. Her blazer gets put on next, noting to show a little of the white sleeves from the cuffs of the jacket and leaving it unbuttoned. Never has she put this much detail into getting dressed. It is performed meticulously, just like how she paints.

She does some final touches to her look. She slicks her hair back that she has failed to cut since the very first day she met Héloïse. She applies a bit of makeup, which is just some eye liner. Once she has satisfied with herself in the mirror, she slips on her polished black dress shoes. One last look before she grabs her keys and helmet and enters into the hot sun.

The drive to Héloïse was torture this time. She’s being baked alive under all the black that she’s wearing. She can feel all her emotions festering inside of her, bubbling and waiting to erupt. She spends a majority of her ride there trying to do anything but cry. This is the day that she has spent the past week preparing for. She was never the best at preparing for anything. The numbing settles in half way there and she hopes that it stays that way.

When she approaches the land, the metal gates are open, but they don’t feel inviting. She continues on coming up on the courtyard to see a sea of cars parked around the circular path. There are people doing valet and she is asked to take her bike, but she declines as politely as she could and parks in her usual spot.

There are people everywhere around her, wearing very expensive clothing and chatting in groups. Marianne assumes that these are the Leclair’s wealthy friends and they are here to see the next business move that Sébastien is making. Everyone around her is an unfamiliar face, making her feel more and more out of place by the minute. The stares she gets when she takes her helmet off and lights a smoke makes her feel as if she’s a zoo animal. Anxiety festers inside of her.

Even though she’s already 10 minutes late, she still decides to quickly smoke a cigarette, hoping that it will somewhat clam her. They used to help her a lot before Héloïse, but now nothing can calm the feelings inside her. Her phone rings as she’s half way through smoking. She reaches inside her jacket pocket and pull out her phone. Arthur’s number pops on her screen.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Marianne?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Are you here yet? I need your help with Vincent,” Hise voice is hush, presumably trying to keep he brother from hearing.

“Yeah, I’m outside. Where are you?”

“In one of the guest rooms. I’ll open the door now.” She can hear Vincent’s voice indistinctly in the background.

“I’ll be up in a second.”

With that Marianne puts out her half-finished cigarette, stomping it with the bottom of her very nice dress shoes. She grimaces at her actions, but quickly gets over it. With her helmet in her arms, she ascends the stone stairs entering her demise. Every room in the house is filled with pretentious looking people with their expensive jewels and fabric. There’s a live band somewhere in the vicinity, playing some classical music that can be barely heard over the chatter of the crowd. Everyone seems to be in a good mood due to the large smiles plastered on their faces.

She pushes her way through the crowd with haste, earning her many glares and complaints. She tries to diffuse them with apologies, but she is not forgiven by many. Her shoes connect with the wood of the stairs, clicking as she ascends towards the top. The chandelier in the middle seems to be reflecting light more than usual.

When at the top, she looks around for an open door, finding it to her left. She can hear voices of panic and footsteps treading around. When she enters, she sees Vincent with his hands in his messy hair pacing around with absolute fear on his face. He’s pretty much dressed, only missing his shoes and his blazer. The last time she has seen him like this was when their mother died.

Arthur’s fully dressed sitting on the guest bed while Benoit is leaned against the wall. Both the boys look at her with desperation in their eyes, asking her for help. She takes a hesitant step closer to her frantic brother.

“What’s wrong?” She doesn’t address this question to anyone in particular.

Benoit speaks up first, “He’s been like this since last night. He doesn’t know if he should marry her.”

“What why?” This time, the question is addressed to Vincent.

Vincent’s green eyes look into hers. she can see the battle inside of his head. He’s no longer her 26th year old brother. He’s six again, giving her the same look, he is now, asking her to help him decide on ice cream flavours. Or when he was 18 and trying to decide what university to go to. Vincent has always come to her when he’s faced with tough decisions, but the choices have always been easy for her to pick.

“I don’t fit in. Everyone here is so posh and proper. Literally all of them look like they have a stick up their ass. How am I supposed to stand up there and act like I belong in this environment?” His voice is distressed. He continues to rub his hair with his hands. He looks away and continues to pace.

“Vincent, we have been doing this our entire lives. Do you know remember all those lectures that papa gave us about how to dress and behave during his art exhibits? We’ve been conditioned to do this already; you know what to do.” She takes a pause. “You can do this.” She already regrets the words that escape.

Marianne’s words make him stop. He takes a moment to ponder what she has said. He knows she’s right. They may not always have to be pretentious, but their father molded them well. He removes his hands from his hair.

“Yeah, even Victor made me listen on those lectures. Now, that was hell.” They laugh at Arthur’s remark. Those lectures would go on for what felt like eternity.

Vincent takes a second to close his eyes. Inhale. Exhale. When they open, they now have confidence in them, the fear in them previously have vanished into thin air. He holds his head high. “I’m not going to let some rich people ruin this for me.”

“Eat the rich,” Benoit adds.

“Have you spoken to Héloïse at all Vin?” Arthur asks as he stands to fix his tie.

“A little, not really about this marriage. I think we’ll just live a symbiotic relationship. I’m not going to stop her from doing what she wants, but she knows that we both need to do this.” Vincent answers looking himself in the mirror, trying to fix his tangled hair.

Marianne swallows the tightness in her throat from that statement. This is getting hard. She convinces herself she’s strong enough to do this. She places her helmet down on the free bed, before running her hand through her slicked back hair.

“Oh shit, it’s already 2pm.” Benoit announces to the group. The ceremony is supposed to start in 30 minutes.

The room becomes wilder as everyone runs around trying to finish their preparations. Marianne excuses herself and starts down the hall towards the room she has memorized. As she approaches, she can hear voices behind the closed door. She recognizes Héloïse and Sophie’s voice, but hears an unfamiliar voice.

She holds her hand up to the door, ready to knock, but it doesn’t move. She’s frozen in place at the realization that behind this door Héloïse is in a wedding gown. She can’t bear to see the image. Everything she has locked away deep within is coming out again. The tightness in her throat is making it hard for her to breath. She drops her hand and hangs her head in defeat the door. Her vision starts to go blurry and her breathing more ragged.

Without a second thought, she leaves the door and makes her way to the bathroom down the hall. Inside, she locks the door and plants her back onto it, sliding down to the ground. Her eyes are closed, as if the darkness is the salvation within the private walls of her mind, but copious emotions are rioting within her. Each of her walls are being knocked down. Times like this she wishes she had her mom. Her mother always knew what to say to diffuse any situation.

She focuses on her breathing, trying to make it slower and controlled. She’s blocking out the memories of Héloïse trying to seep its way into her conscious. She feels powerless and she is. She’s going to watch the love of her life marry her brother. There are no words that can explain the amount of agony she is in. Misery, devastation, sorrow; none come close to what she feels.

The love of her life. Héloïse Leclair.

She wouldn’t trade their memories together for anything in the world. Loving Héloïse is a privilege, but Héloïse’s love is fervour. Nothing will ever compare to the enigmatic feeling that Héloïse gives her. It’s indescribable, hieroglyphs that are unable to ever be deciphered. Acquiescence to her love. A feeling so raw and so intense. She’ll never feel this high ever again. Thinking about Héloïse, oddly enough calms her down.

There’s a knock on the door followed by Arthur’s voice. “Hey M, are you in there?”

A last deep breath, she rises to her feet. She checks herself in the mirror, fixing her suit and tie. Once satisfied, she unlocks the door and exits safety and into her living nightmare. She catches Arthur’s eyes first; there is sadness mixed with pride. Then Benoit, who mirrors the same expression. Marianne realizes that she isn’t the only one losing Vincent. This has to be the most depressing wedding to date.

The three of them move back towards the bedroom. Everyone is now dressed to perfection. Vincent looks like someone out of a wedding magazine that has undergone ample photoshop. His hair falls in a lazy mess, but it doesn’t look out of place. It only gives him a unique charm. His three-piece light grey suit fits perfectly and the blue tie is up to their father’s standards. He has a sense of confidence within him that is admirable.

As a group, they have a silent agreeance that they are ready. Marianne checks her phone one last time. 5 minutes. They exit the room and descend down the stairs. The ground floor is empty now, the only people present are the ones in the kitchen working away for the dinner later. The ground approaches the door, only to suddenly stop before exiting.

Marianne closes her eyes, taking a deep encouraging breath. Then they exit.

The sun is high in the air, greeting them with a warm hug. Marianne finds it uncomfortable. The live band in the back is playing some cliché wedding music, but it’s performed perfectly. The birds in the high trees also sing along with the music. There is a muffled undertone of chatter. The atmosphere around them is energetic and lively, but Marianne feels far from this.

Their feet continue to click on the stone path as they come around the corner. The scene in front of them unveils slowly. There are many white chairs all filled with pristinely dressed people lined up in rows on either side of a white carpet laid on the ground. The music becomes louder when the groom is spotted. The music picks up and becomes even more merry.

Marianne ignores the increased effort each breath takes and continues to follow the group behind. All eyes are on the four of them, inspecting for imperfection, rarely a smile on any of their faces. Marianne hangs her head, trying to stop the tears from welling up. She watches the black feet walk in front of her to keep her pace. When her head returns upright, she is met with a man in a suit with a book in his crossed hands. He has a small smile placed on his old features.

Vincent stands in front of him as the three moves to stand slightly behind him in a diagonal pattern. Marianne stands closest to him, looking down the aisle, refusing to make eye contact with any of the guest. Her hands are held in front of her, one in the other holding on with white knuckles. Her face is stern and her eyes are sharp. The music has quiet down once they stand up there.

Then, Héloïse appears. The world around Marianne goes stiff. The sound is gone, the birds have disappeared and there is nothing else but them. The sun illuminates the white wedding gown that she is wearing. Her eyes are as blue as the sky on a clear summer’s day. Marianne finds them freeing, like a bird flying around. There’s a fire to Héloïse’s expression, they are so full of anger and resentment, but Marianne finds her breathtaking anyway. Her hair is up in an intricate design and the way the veil falls in front of her face is effortless. And her lips are red.

Altogether, she is brought back to her senses. The music is triumphant. Héloïse doesn’t make eye contact with her the whole way down the aisle. Sébastien with the biggest smile on his face has her arm wrapped within his. Sophie follows behind her in her cute blue bridesmaid’s dress and it’s only her. Sébastien releases Héloïse at the front, smiling and nodding to Vincent who returns the gesture. He then takes a seat beside an equally as happy Yvette in the front row. Marianne ignores her father beside Yvette who also seems to be thrilled.

Héloïse stands facing Vincent, with the bouquet in her white gloved hands. The pattern woven in the silk is so complex. Sophie stands behind her in the same diagonal pattern, shooting a sincere apologetic smile at Marianne. This surprises her, but she doesn’t let it show. The music stops.

The older man in the front starts his speech, but Marianne doesn’t register any of the words. She’s standing in awe, staring at Héloïse. She swears she has never seen someone so beautiful, so angelic in her life. She imagines that it’s her standing in front of Héloïse. She imagines the smile that would be on both their faces. The love between them would be so boisterous.

She’s zoned out until she hears Héloïse speak. “We didn’t prepare any vows.”

This earns hoarse whispering from the crowd. They have yet to make eye contact.

The man continues, going on about how the love between them with cherished and all that stupid bullshit. Then he addresses Vincent. “Vincent Alméras, will you take Héloïse Leclair to be your wedded wife? Do you promise to love, honour, cherish and protect her?”

“I do.”

Marianne swears she’s about to explode. All of her sorrow and agony will release into the universe making the storm clouds roll in. This is real. It is really happening. Her breathing starts to pick up. She can’t control her eyes from tearing up.

“Héloïse Leclair, will you take Vincent Alméras to be your wedded husband? Do you promise to love, honour, cherish and protect him?”

There they are. Those blue eyes on her hazel. The eyes are no longer filled with anger, but with hope, begging Marianne to speak up.

_Do it._

_Do it._

_Do it._

_Open your fucking mouth._

Nothing comes out.

Her mouth doesn’t even open. Just two sets of eyes on each other with hopelessness and anguish. Héloïse blinks the tears away as Marianne’s breath hitches and the first tear falls from her eye.

She watches Héloïse all the way.

The locking of blue eyes with green. Those red lips open to say something that Marianne doesn’t hear. She watches her brother’s hands move to the fabric of the veil, pulling it over Héloïse face, unwrapping the goddess herself. She watches them both lean in. Her vision is so blurry from the water in her eyes.

But she stays still, watching the blue eyes close and her red lips touch Vincent’s. Marianne feels every ounce of her being shatter into millions of pieces. Héloïse belongs to another, never to be kissed or touched by Marianne again.

She is no longer whole.


	23. Chapter 23

That was the last time she saw Héloïse. 

She experiences it all. All the emotions. All at once. A hurricane comes crashing into her body, leaving her gasping for air. Her soul transcends. She feels like she’s dying. Her heart is beating irregularly, as if she’s having a heart attack. But it’s not a heart attack, just heartbreak. This pain inflicted on Marianne is unjust. No one should ever have to experience the same anguish as she did.

Marianne disappears immediately once the kiss occurred. Running away with tears streaming down her cheeks, down the white aisle and to her bike. She doesn’t register the gasps from the crowd, or the sound of footsteps following her on the stone path, or the angelic voice that cries out for her to come back. She’s gone. Her hair blows in the wind as she starts down the road, hoping to get as far away from this place as possible.

She drives and she drives fast. Travelling through the air at the speed of light. She doesn’t care to be careful. She doesn’t care if she loses traction and spins off the road. Anything to get away and fast. It is as if she vanished. A ghost to never be seen again.

Marianne reaches her home in one piece. Her feet have never moved so fast getting off the bike, through the doors, up the stairs and into her apartment. She shuts the door behind her. It’s silent in her building, peaceful almost, but she feels it suffocating her. As if, she is 6ft under and trapped and losing oxygen quickly.

Without taking off any of her clothes, she flings herself into her bed. Her face is stuffed in a pillow as silent tears fall from closed eyes. The room fills with soft sobs. If she closes her eyes, she pictures Héloïse’s features. Her intense eyes, her soft lips, her nose. Every piece of Héloïse is engrained in Marianne’s memory. If she opens them, she sees the sun who illuminated Héloïse time and time again, or she sees the blue sky where the brightness matches Héloïse’s eyes when she smiles. There is no getting away from Héloïse, she surrounds her, wrapping her like weighted blanket. It’s comforting, but it’s smothering her.

Hours pass. There are no movements.

She doesn’t answer anyone’s calls or the knocking on her door. Only once she moves to flip around to stare up at the blank ceiling. She doesn’t dare move otherwise. She counts each second that passes as if she’s waiting for a bomb to explode. Putting her out of her misery until she’s nothing but debris. Until; there’s no longer the soul of Marianne in that body. She’ll be floating in the void.

She doesn’t move when the night falls and the sky grow dark. She ignores the bustling streets and loud pedestrians outside her balcony. She doesn’t flinch when she hears loud cars honking in anger. The darkness engulfs her and her room. Eventually, her tired mind starts to shut off, the thoughts no longer running through. She dreams about her. They are happy.

Marianne wakes when the sun climbs up the sky. Reminding her of Héloïse. She stays static as the sun greets the world. She doesn’t move when she hears Héloïse’s begging voice on the other side of her door or Vincent’s threatening words. She stays still. That’s all her wilting soul can do. No longer strong enough to move limbs. This is as close to death as she can get, without actually dying. Maybe dying wouldn’t be so bad now. Anything to put her out of her misery.

Though, she does hear Héloïse’s final words to her.

“Marianne, I’m leaving to the airport now. I’m moving to Milan. I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for being the selfish fuck up that I am. Please forgive me. I love you. I will always love you Marianne.” She can tell from the broken voice that Héloïse is crying, but she feels nothing. Her body has gone numb.

Then she hears footsteps fade away. Each step that grows quieter, she feels her heart getting chipped away. As if Héloïse’s steps are chiselling her heart.

That was the last time she heard Héloïse’s voice. 

* * *

The awful thing about life is that it continues, whether you want it to or not. This is very evident for Marianne. She has barely left her bed in the past four days since the wedding. Everything is different. The sun isn’t as bright, the birds never sing anymore and the earth has gone cold.

She hasn’t spoken to anyone since the wedding and she can’t because her phone is smashed on the ground somewhere. In a fit of uncontrollable rage, she sends her phone flying into the wall, after the constant notifications that were hounding her. In this time, she has only gotten up to eat and drink, but she barely consumed anything. She can feel her body disintegrating.

Tomorrow, she has to force herself out of bed because she’s doing a commissioned piece. But tonight, her only goal is to get out of bed and eat something so she doesn’t pass out tomorrow in front of her clients. She accomplishes that after an hour of constant encouragement in her own head. She manages to eat a slice of toast that has gone stale. She sleeps for the next 12 hours.

The first painting back was punishing. She found it extremely difficult to focus on anything, her mind constantly wandered back to Héloïse. It always did. She’s unable to mix the colours and can’t apply the paint like how she wants. This frustrates her more. The darkness inside her starts to steam from anger. Even doing the thing she loves most doesn’t distract her anymore.

The world rotates on and in time she starts to feel better. She beings to forget the feelings that Héloïse made her feel, she’s no longer euphoria. She’s gone cold to fact that her brother is no longer around. Marianne can’t even picture Héloïse’s face anymore, but those blue eyes and red lips will forever haunt her mind. She submerges herself in her work and starts to build a reputable name for herself. In this time, Marianne became very close to Sophie, Arthur and Benoit. None of them have talked or seen Héloïse or Vincent. When the two moved away, they left their life behind and never looked back.

Months after Héloïse left, Marianne received a letter in the mail from her. Héloïse sent it to her house. Now, Marianne is sitting on the edge of bed, in the dimmed darkness of her room staring at the white envelope in hand.

“You have to open it,” Sophie’s voice rings through her phone and ruins the quiet air.

Marianne’s eyes are glued to her name on the front, she knows that’s Héloïse’s scratchy hand writing. “I don’t really want to,” Marianne respond as her fingers fiddle with the poorly sealed backing. She can feel herself grow nervous as her fingers start to grow antsy.

“Don’t you want to know what it says?”

Of course, Marianne does. Sophie knows she does, only saying that to urge her on. She hasn’t heard from Héloïse since the day she left for Milan. But she has gone through so much the past few months, picking up the tiny pieces of her that shattered everywhere that day. She doesn’t want to read the letter if she’ll be destroyed again.

She can’t help herself though, curiosity floats through her mind, running through all the possible things that this letter could say. Her finger finds its way under the lifted part the of backing and slides through the paper. The ripping sound slices through the air. Sophie remains quiet on the other side.

Marianne pulls a thin white folded paper out of the envelope, dropping it to the ground. Her eyes look at the blank back of the paper, trying to muster up the confidence to open it. After a moment and an exhale of anxiety, she opens it. Her eyes follow the hand written letter.

Dear Marianne,

It’s been months seen I last saw you. I find myself constantly thinking back to the month we had together. I’m starting to think you were a dream now that I am living in a nightmare. I feel dissipated and aimless. Inspid. Restless. I feel as if a dark pool of stickiness is pooling over me. You came into my life so fast, but disappeared faster. I regret so much of it. I should’ve told you sooner. I should’ve chosen you. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more than you. I’m sorry. I’ll forever love you.

Your love,

Héloïse Leclair.

Héloïse encapsulated Orpheus inventing the love letter through sorrow.

But like Eurydice, Marianne doesn’t reply.

* * *

The next months for Marianne have been fortunate. She has become a very well-known artist in Europe, essentially becoming a house-hold name. Her life is now very busy, everyone constantly requests her for portraits and paying large amounts for them. After some time, Sophie started to work for Marianne as an assistant, responsible for handing her emails and schedule. Working together have made them grow closer, now they are virtually inseparable. 

Her feelings for Héloïse are mostly gone, pushed back into the void that is never to be touched or seen again. She doesn’t think about the blonde as often anymore, but every memory that does float to the surface are nice ones. Their first kiss, their private portrait sessions together, the time they visited the small pond. There’s no resentment for Héloïse.

Marianne managed to sell her Orpheus and Eurydice painting for a lot of money to an anonymous buyer during one of her art auctions. She was able to save up the money to buy her own studio, in the city and much larger than her last one. In that time, she has also decided to open up her own company named Studio 28. The Portrait studio closed and Victor only focuses teaching classes now.

A year after she received the letter from Héloïse, Marianne is showing one of her pieces at an art exhibit. She usually attended these art exhibits to see how art is evolving and to get some inspiration for her own pieces, and to show her own works of course. Tonight, Sophie decides to accompany her at a huge studio in the heart of Paris. It’s busy, but strangely intimate. There are stringed lights handing from the ceiling, dimly lighting the entire studio. In front of each painting hangs its own individual spotlight to highlight the art.

Marianne’s in turtle neck with a black blazer over top and a thin gold chain sits on the fabric. Her black ripped jeans hug her well and her boots are clunky as ever. Nothing has really changed besides the slicked back hair she wears now. She’s standing beside Sophie who wears a modest white dress that’s just above the knees with white heels. She’s still shorter than Marianne, getting joking comments from the taller brunette from time to time.

Marianne decided to show her last painting about Héloïse named _Portrait de la jeune fille en feu_. It’s a medium sized rectangular painting. The background shows the sun a fair distance away, barely shedding light past the leaves of the tall trees. The light is pointed to a feminine figure in the middle, her back turned to the viewer. She’s in a white wedding dress and her blonde hair is tied up. The end of the dress is set aflame but the woman did not react, as if was intentionally lit. She’s walking away, into an empty vastness, not specified to the audience.

A depiction of Héloïse’s soul leaving Marianne’s mind, walking into a void and ever to be seen again. She’s thankful that no one asked for her to explain her inspiration.

They now are standing in front of a small picture of a bird that hangs on a white wall. Marianne’s eyes are scanning the painting, analysing the techniques and colours used. Sophie is not interested and is focused on the piece of paper with information about all the art being displayed. Marianne’s finger is tapping her lips, trying to formulate an opinion on the piece.

“I don’t think I like it,” Marianne mumbles after a period of time.

“Hmm,” Sophie’s eyes are stuck on the paper.

“The brush work looks lazy and the bird is kind of ugly,” Marianne says turning her attention to Sophie. Sophie doesn’t say anything, her eyes are wide. “What are you looking at?”

Sophie immediately moves the brochure out of the reach of Marianne and quickly responds, “Nothing. Just reading. It’s difficult to read for me sometimes.”

Marianne doesn’t buy it. Sophie’s a terrible liar and it’s a shit lie. She reaches for the paper in Sophie’s hands but the smaller brunette just moves it further away. Marianne huffs, her hand combs through her hair, “Just show me.”

“No.”

“Sophie.”

“Marianne, no. Go analyze that tree over there,” Sophie directs to a painting of a tree behind Marianne.

Marianne fakes looking behind her back, waiting for Sophie to relax before grabbing the paper out of her hands. With the paper, Marianne quickly walks away from Sophie in hopes she catches the thing she was looking at before the smaller girl catches up. She’s skillfully weaving through the crowd. She brings the paper close to her face, her eyes quickly scan, looking for key words.

_Nope._

_Nope._

_Seen that._

_Nope._

_No- wait…_

Marianne’s eyes go wide. She stops dead in her tracks. Her hands start to calm up, her body tenses and her heart starts pounding. This can’t be right. She can hear Sophie call out for her from behind, quick footsteps are approaching. She can feel her mouth go dry.

Marianne’s feet start walking to the location indicated on the paper. She doesn’t hear Sophie tell her not to go nor the people yelling at her as she bumps into them. She bee lines there and if anyone is in her path, they are getting hit. She pushes through the somewhat light crowd and stops in front of a painting.

There’s a small spotlight hung from the ceiling, shining down illuminating this piece. It’s a medium sized portrait with a golden dusted wood frame. She feels faint like her soul has left a body after seeing a ghost. It’s not a ghost in front of her though. It’s those blue intense eyes that she has memorized the colours of. It’s the red lips that have burned their imprint into hers.

All the memories flood back into her conscious. Marianne remembers the way Héloïse looked smiling. She remembers the sound of her voice, or the liveliness in her laugh. The way her eyes grow dark when she wants something. She can feel the Héloïse’s touch on her skin and how soft Héloïse’s hands were. She remembers it all, every sensation feels more concentrated. Marianne knows that Héloïse’s red lips are done intentionally, for her. 

Sophie stands beside the frozen Marianne, still herself. They’re both staring at the portrait in front of them. It’s done well, but not as well as the portrait of Héloïse that Marianne did. The painter managed to get anger that is always on her face, but it lacks softness. Perhaps the softness was only for Marianne and no one else.

“It certainly looks like her,” Sophie’s voice brings Marianne out of her thoughts.

Marianne doesn’t say a word though and continues to look. There she is. The love of her life, Héloïse Leclair. She’s sitting on a throne-like seat. Her lips are pressed into a firm line, her eyes hold evident fire in them. She has a small baby in her arms, wrapped in white linen, its face not even visible. Behind her stands Vincent with his hands on her shoulder. His face looks blank, expressionless. None of them are smiling. There’s a lack of presence in the painting. These are not the people Marianne once remembered. 

All the emotions that fell into the void resurfaced. It’s overwhelming. The months spent recovering has seemingly become futile. She shatters, into a million pieces once again. An explosion that releases Marianne’s fragmented soul back into the atmosphere. Another big bang, the universe has to recreate itself. Héloïse is walking back from the void, remerging into the light.

Underneath, there’s a bronze plaque. Marianne steps closer to read it, her eyes are watering. 

It reads: _Famille de la Leclair_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm actually really sad that this fic is ending, it's been quite the ride for me. if you guys want me to post the last chapter later today then let me know, if there are enough people that want it i'll just post it. thank you for reading :)


	24. Chapter 24

What a horrible life she just envisioned.

Marianne opens her eyes to see the back of the three boys. Her eyes have to adjust to the sun that is high in the air, smiling down at them with its rays. Marianne’s cold soul finds comfort in the warmth. The band is playing merry wedding music as they approach from the front of the house. Their footsteps echo through the vast country side as if it is the drumline to the song. The birds are melodic, as if they have been practicing for this moment for years.

The white path in front is laid out pristinely, not a single marking can be seen. Not even a speck of dirt. This is ruined by their footsteps. They continue up to the stage with the silent crowd’s eyes on them. It feels nerve-racking to be the centre of attention, even though she isn’t. They stand in diagonal pattern with Marianne closest to Vincent. She feels his anxiety through his fidgeting.

Marianne’s breathing hitches when she sees the blonde appear from behind the brick house moments later. Exactly like she imagined, Héloïse is angelic and stops the world around. She finds Héloïse more beautiful than she first pictured. Her hair is done up perfectly with a white veil covering her face. She can see those blue eyes filled with flame and red lips piercing through. Red and blue are Marianne’s favourite colours now.

The slim white wedding dress hugs Héloïse in all the right places. She is a sculpture chiseled maliciously from marble; Michelangelo probably sculpted her with extra attention to detail. The sun definitely has a favouritism for the blonde, always illuminating her, making her more breathtaking. The difference this time is that Héloïse looks directly at Marianne when she’s being led down the aisle by Sébastien.

The entire way, their eyes don’t break contact. Marianne feels like a balloon, ready to float into the vast blue sky above. Héloïse has a smile on her face. There’s no anger present once she locked eyes with Marianne. It truly feels like Héloïse is marrying her. Marianne could cry, not from sadness but from the overwhelming feeling of love inside of her. But she isn’t marrying Marianne. Their eye contact makes Marianne feel relaxed, a sense of comfort that she hasn’t felt much of lately.

Sébastien takes a seat beside Yvette while Héloïse and Sophie climb the one step up to the white platform. Sophie is wearing a short blue dress that actually matches Héloïse’s eyes. Marianne can see Sophie give her the same apologetic smile, but there’s a hint of plead in them. She swallows a tightness stuck in her throat.

Héloïse is now stood a few metres away from Marianne, looking at Vincent. Her eyes hold no emotion, like a blank canvas. The man starts to speak. This time Marianne listens. He starts by welcoming all the guests that showed up today, then goes to talk about how marriage between two people is remarkable. He makes jokes about his failed marriages which was received very poorly.

Then he mentioned to start the vows, which Héloïse speaks up. “We didn’t write any vows.”

“Oh, I, uh.” He scrambles around looking at his notes. “Ok, we’ll just move past that.”

There’s an awkward pause. Héloïse looks at Marianne. There’s a silent communication between them. Héloïse is telling Marianne that she loves her. Marianne is doing the same back. Both of them have a small smile on their faces. Maybe it will be okay.

“Vincent Alméras, will you take Héloïse Leclair to be your wedded wife? Do you promise to love, honour, cherish and protect her?”

“I do.”

Their eyes are still connected. Marianne wants to explode, but this time not out of pain. Something is recreating itself inside of her. There’s an overwhelming sense of confidence that washes over her. She knows she has to do this and she understands why Héloïse can’t. She just has to take the first step. Her heart rate is starting to pick up and her hands start to shake, trying to muster the confidence.

“Héloïse Leclair, will you take Vincent Alméras to be your husband? Do you promise to love, honour, cherish and protect him?”

Not a moment later, Marianne breaks from the line she’s standing in and walks towards Héloïse. There’s no hesitation in her steps, they are bold and confident strides. She’s filled with adrenaline to a point where her eyes are tunnel vision and her hearing is muffled. She sees nothing else but Héloïse. Héloïse’s smile grows large when Marianne extends her hand to the blonde. The crowd gasps in confusion and shock. Héloïse grabs Marianne’s hand instinctually, intertwining her fingers and holding on tight, like a child with their balloon, not wanting it to float away.

“YES! GO! GO! RUN!” They hear Sophie scream from behind them.

They both run, hand in hand, down the white aisle towards the front of the house. Their footsteps are in harmony with one another. They both have never smiled this wide before. They can hear bustling and an eruption of chatter from the guests behind them. Sébastien and Yvette call out for them when they’re already in the parking lot. They would have to hurry before they are stopped.

Marianne mounts the bike first, waiting for Héloïse to jump on. “Marianne, this dress is tight as hell. How am I supposed to get on?”

Marianne looks at the dilemma and has to think fast. She pulls her key out of ignition and connects the tip the silky dress. It rips with minimal effort down the middle. Héloïse gasps at the action, too starstruck to realize what Marianne was doing, until it was done. Marianne smiles at her with an apologetic grin, “Sorry baby, I’ll pay for it later but we have to go.” She gestures at Héloïse’s parents who are running towards them.

That earns her another beautiful smile. Marianne has never seen those blue eyes light up so bright. Héloïse gets on with some difficulty, but manages to secure her arms around Marianne’s torso, hugging her tight, never wanting to let go. Fearing that if she lets go, Marianne would float away from her grasp. Marianne starts up the bike and exits the premise with haste, hearing the multitude of footsteps behind them as they drive away. Out of reach.

The sun shines down on them both, full of glee and excitement. As the continue down the road full of empty fields and tall century-old trees, they have never felt more content with life than they do now. All the sadness, guilt, anguish has vanished, replaced with pure euphoria. So, they ride on the biggest high any of them have ever felt. Marianne doesn’t know where she’s taking them, but she knows everything will be okay as long as she has Héloïse.

She decides to be selfish. She picks the lover’s choice and she could never be happier.

* * *

1 year later.

“Hey babe, how’s the painting going? I miss you.” Héloïse’s voice floats through the phone. It’s fairy like. Marianne can hear sounds of paper stacking in the back of the call.

“Hi love. It’s almost done, hopefully I can finish before our dinner tonight. I miss you too, How’s Milan?” Marianne holds the phone between her ear and shoulder, not completely focused on the conversation. Her hands are occupied by a paint brush and palette. She’s working on a piece for an art exhibit she is hosting next month.

“Lonely without you, but everything is wrapped up. The company will officially be back in Paris tomorrow.” Héloïse’s voice is full of excitement.

Marianne smiles.

Héloïse still took over her family’s business like planned, after much arguing and convincing. At first, her parents refused to speak to her, cutting off all her funds. Money was never an issue for them though. One day, Sébastien came to visit the two without Yvette knowing. He explained that he only wants whatever is best for Héloïse and that Yvette was the one who is stuck on dying traditions. At the end of the day, Sébastien wanted to retire and leaving his company with his daughter was the smartest choice. Yvette was fuming to say the least, but with time, the problem faded away.

Moving a large publication company to another country was taking a long time, longer than any of them anticipated. But now, there will be no more long trips away from each other. She will be able to see the blonde every day for the rest of her life.

“I am excited for you. When is your flight?” Marianne asks as she applies more paint to the canvas in front of her.

“In an hour, I’m leaving to the airport tonight. Will you be ready for our dinner in time? It’s at 7.”

“Yes, I’ll be there at 7pm. Do you need me to pick you up from the airport?”

“No, Sophie said she’d pick me up.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then. Have a safe flight. If someone hijacks the plane, don’t be the hero.” Marianne’s voice is dead serious, but Héloïse laughs anyway. The laugh is lively and music to Marianne’s ears.

“You know I would have to. I love you. Don’t be late,” Héloïse jokes back.

Marianne smiles, “I love you too. I won’t.”

* * *

Marianne walks through the doors at 7:01pm. The restaurant is busy, but the noise level isn’t deafening. The air is filled with low chatter and the clicking between metal and ceramic. The smell of good food floods Marianne. The surroundings are very rustic, many plants are used as decoration and everything is made of dark coloured wood. The lights are dimmed, setting the mood for a romantic evening.

Marianne’s nervous as she walks towards the blonde that’s glowing from the small light above. She hasn’t seen her in a week. There’s always a light illuminating her. Marianne pulls out the empty chair and sits as she gives Héloïse a smile. Héloïse returns with a joyful smile when she sees Marianne. It’s been a long week. Marianne can’t help but stare at the red lips.

“You look hot today,” Marianne says reaching her hand out on the table to hold Héloïse’s. She’s wearing a button-up that was barely buttoned. “I don’t like that you took the booth though.”

Héloïse releases a low chuckle, her eyes blue eyes are so bright. “Well you’re late, so beggars can’t be choosers.’

“I’m one minute late,” Marianne huffs in defense.

“You’re still late.” Stubborn as always. Marianne gets lost in her eyes; the nervousness seemingly washes away.

Dinner was filled with sweet longing glances and conversations about their week apart. After their delicious dinner, the anxiety settles in Marianne’s stomach again. She feels the small square box in her black blazer pocket. She is more nervous now than she was taking Héloïse away during the wedding. It’s a lot more pressure now. There’s always a chance that Héloïse says no, despite the constant reassurance from the boys and Sophie. After asking for the cheque, she decides to do it.

“Héloïse,” She draws the blonde’s attention towards her. The blue eyes are on hers and she forgets how to breath. Her shaky hand reach inside her jacket to pull out the black velvet box. She lays it on the table. She sees Héloïse’s eyes widen at the realization. Marianne’s searching for reassurance in her body language, but the shocked expression doesn’t give her much.

Marianne hands fiddle with the box, spinning it on the table out of nervousness. She doesn’t look at Héloïse while she does, but she starts to speak. “Héloïse, ever since I’ve met you, you changed my life. You didn’t tell me about the whole arrangement at first, but I understand. I would’ve done the same. I would’ve done anything to have more time with you. I envisioned a life without you on the day of wedding. It was mundane and depressing, and I knew I needed you to be mine. I would never trade what I experienced for anything in the world. You make me feel alive, you make me feel successful and you make me feel loved.”

Marianne looks up from the box and on Héloïse. Her eyes are growing slightly pink and there is a visible layer of wetness that can be seen. Her hands are covering her mouth, trying to maintain composure in the busy restaurant. She’s leaning back on the black leather booth, unable to hold her own weight up.

Marianne continues, “I want you in my life forever. I know we haven’t talked about getting married, but it’s always been you and will always be you. I want every part of you, at your best and your worst. I want to experience every emotion that you do and I will know a year might be considered not a long time to propose to someone, but it feels right. As if we’ve known each other for eternity. So, I chose to do it on the day that we ran away together.”

Marianne gets out of her chair and moves to the side of the table. She gets down on one knee and flips open the box to reveal a subtle thin gold engagement ring with an expensive-looking diamond in the middle. Tears are falling out of Héloïse’s eyes as she tries to stifle her sob.

“Héloïse Leclair, will you marry me?”

There’s a pause. Marianne’s ears are pounding from her accelerated heart rate. Héloïse takes a deep breath full of snot making Marianne smile before she fishes in her own pocket, pulling out a velvet box. Marianne laughs at the realization that Héloïse was going to propose as well. Héloïse puts her warm, wet hands on Marianne’s cheeks. Marianne rises from her knelt position to plant a very soft kiss on red lips lips. Marianne melts into it, like butter on a hot skillet. The burning feels like home. 

When they pull away, Héloïse answers breathlessly, “Yes.”

Pure euphoria washes over Marianne. The crowd around them erupts in cheers and the air is filled with booming clapping. They hear a familiar feminine voice in the back somewhere screaming, “Yes! Finally!” Marianne turns to see Sophie and Vincent, who give her wide smiles and thumbs up.

She has never been happier.

* * *

1 month later.

“What if she doesn’t come?” Marianne’s hushed voice full of anxiety is directed to the boys who stand behind her.

She’s on the same white stage behind the grand brown brick mansion that she was a year and half ago. This time, she’s standing in front of a young woman who may be too young to even be ordained. The crowd in front of her is smaller, more intimate, only friends and family are present. There’s a seat missing beside the pissed off Yvette who is shooting lasers into Marianne. But Victor who sits on the other side, has a wide smile on his face.

Héloïse has convinced Marianne to forgive her father after much persuasion. She said that resentment is not good for the mind and there’s no point of holding a grudge. Marianne eventually agreed after months of convincing. Now, Victor and Marianne are civil, she can never fully forgive him for his actions.

Vincent nudges her in her back. “Shut up, of course she’ll show.” The boys chuckle at her fidgeting.

A couple of days after Marianne and Héloïse ran out of the wedding together, Marianne asked Vincent to meet her for dinner. They sat in the restaurant for hours, just talking about everything. Marianne laid everything out on the table, from start to finish. All her thoughts and emotions and he sat there listening to every word.

She apologized constantly to him, even after he told her not to repeatedly. After she was done telling her story, he thanked her, taking Marianne by surprised. Vincent told her that he didn’t want to marry Héloïse after he found out that she didn’t love him back, saying it didn’t feel fair. He explained that he tried to call off the wedding but Yvette would not allow it.

They made up that night. She asked him to be her best man and he happily agreed. All the tension that was hanging on Marianne’s shoulders were then lifted. The weight that she has been feeling was gone. She’s free.

This time, Marianne is in a white three-piece suit with a tie that actually matches the blue in Héloïse’s eyes. The boys behind her are wearing black suits with the same blue tie. The music from the live band in the back is quiet. The air is full of anticipation waiting for the other bride. Marianne runs her hand subconsciously through her hair, messing up the neat comb-over slightly.

After another tense moment passes, the music picks up, roaring through the sky. Héloïse emerges from around the corner wearing her own white suit. Her suit is more feminine than Marianne’s without a tie and vest. Just wearing a dress shirt underneath the blazer. Marianne finds her enchanting with the sun beaming down on her. She swears she sees a halo appear over the blonde’s head. There’s no thin see-through fabric that hides her face this time. Marianne can see the glow in the blue eyes from metres away and the upturned red lips.

The walk down the aisle feels like slow motion. Each step is gracefully taken and slow, methodical. Héloïse has such a fiery prescence to her. Every second that passes with Héloïse’s eyes on Marianne, she feels like she’s being set on fire. There are many overwhelming feelings within her, she feels like she needs to cry. 

Every lagging step makes Marianne fall more in love.

A tear falls, she has never seen anything more beautiful.

When she finally reaches the stage and is let go by Sébastien, the woman starts talking. Her little prepared speech greets everyone at the wedding and some background on the girls – nothing special, definitely all generic. Marianne accepts a congratulatory smile from Sophie, sending her back a thank you through her own smile. Héloïse wipes away the fallen tear from Marianne’s face. Everything is perfect.

“Now for the vows,” The young woman looks at Marianne to start. The crowd is silent. The earth stops rotating.

“Héloïse, you entered my life when I was at my lowest. It was worse version of myself, but you taught me how to be bold, to be caring and how it feels to be loved. You help me every day to be the finest version of myself that I can be and I thank you for it. Every second that I’ve known you have been the best seconds of my life. It is impossible for me to put into words the passionate and infinite flame you have set on my soul. Héloïse, you are a masterpiece, my muse and I’ve never felt more alive. I promise to love you with the same determination and confidence you’ve given me. I promise you every piece of myself until the day I die.”

Silence hangs as tears fall from Héloïse’s eyes. Only the wind through the leaves of the large trees fill the air. Happy tears trickle down her skin, past the beautiful grin on her face. Marianne wants to kiss her so badly, to feel every ounce of Héloïse’s soul pour into hers.

Héloïse wipes her tears haphazardly before attempting to speak. Her voice is broken from all the emotion within her.

“Marianne, never in my life did I expect to find someone like you. Someone that dissipates my anger from one look, or make me feel such tranquility even when I am stressed. I would’ve never expected that the woman that was late to our first meeting and every other meeting after that, even her own proposal dinner would have such an impact on me.”

Marianne opens her mouth in shock. The crowd laughs and before Marianne could respond, Héloïse continues her speech.

“You make every day the best day I’ve experienced. You make me want to be better and fill my heart so full. Committing myself to you for the rest of my life is easy, because without you, I am nothing. I give you everything that I am. I promise to shower you in zealous love every day that I am with you. A love that floods cannot drown.”

Tears are falling from both of them now. There is so much love in the air, it’s almost suffocating. Everything about this moment is perfect. The air is crisp, the sun is shining bright and there is not a cloud in the blue sky. Marianne wishes that she can pause this moment and live in this euphoric state forever. 

The young woman smiles deeply at both of them and continues with the ceremony. Their eyes don’t tear away from each other, even when Marianne reaches her hands out to grab Héloïse’s.

“Well, let’s not waste any time. Marianne Alméras, will you take Héloïse Leclair to be your wife? Do you promise to love, honour, cherish and protect her?”

Marianne smiles wider, “Yes, I do.”

“Héloïse Leclair, will you take Marianne Alméras to be your wife?” Do you promise to love, honour, cherish and protect her?”

“I do.”

Nervous hands fumble to put the ring on the other. Héloïse has a silver-plated ring for Marianne, simple, just how she likes. Héloïse hands are shaky and kind of sweaty. Marianne puts on a golden ring that matches the colour of the engagement ring. The diamond in the middle is big, definitely expensive, but not too flashy. It is surrounded by smaller, equally as expensive diamonds to its left and right. It’s extravagant but Marianne has the money for it. Her Orpheus and Eurydice painting hangs in Le Louvre. Down the back, but who cares?

“Without further ado, I pronounce you two married!”

With that, their lips smash together. Fireworks fire from within, bursting into explosions of bright colours. Their kiss is filled with raw passion, a feeling that they know all too well. A convergence of two lives, molding into one. They kiss each other harder than ever before. They fit so well into each other, finally completing the puzzle within. Héloïse’s lips are on fire, forever leaving a burn on Marianne’s lips. They don’t rush the kiss. They allow every emotion to come and go, like waves crashing into a shore.

Eventually, they pull away. Out of breath, staring into each other. Marianne’s sure her lips are now red. Maybe from the red lipstick, maybe from the fire inside Héloïse. No one says a word. The crowd is clapping and cheering for the happily now married couple. Marianne can hear Vincent and Sophie cheering the loudest.

She offers her hand out, which is immediately intertwined with Héloïse. They run, like they did before, away from the crowd, down the white carpet. Hand in hand, they run in pure bliss. The wind blowing in their hair. They are free. They are together. Finally, they are happy.

Héloïse is one step behind her.

And Marianne can turn to look back at Héloïse as often as she likes.

* * *

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> firstly, wanted to start off by saying thank you so much for reading my first fic. It has truly been a ride of emotions for us both. this story as changed a lot from what i first intended it to be so if there are any inconsistencies, please let me know. secondly, i am sorry for playing your emotions like that, but who doesn't love a nice surprise. i wanted to keep this ending a secret due for a more natural reaction but it was definitely hard. i hope you all enjoyed this. i certainly did. please let me know what you think and what I can improve on. i am planning on starting another fic, so this might not be the last time you see me. once again, thank you!
> 
> \- scorned
> 
> p.s. if you have any questions, leave them below, i'll answer them all :)


End file.
